Here Goes Nothing
by girlontheindex
Summary: "The fact that Harry Potter was going out with Ginny Weasley seemed to interest a great number of people." Harry and Ginny one-shots.
1. When They First Met

No one could possibly have missed them, all six of the bustling red-heads. Each were bundled up in maroon and amber and chestnut jumpers, and the four boys were all pushing packed trollies. The troop leader was a plump but friendly looking lady, with rosy cheeks and kind eyes. Harry - subconsciously - pictured this woman stood over a mixing bowl, concoting delicious delights for her family to eat. He smiled at the thought.

The five children, four boys ranging from perhaps sixteen to Harry's age, eleven, and a young girl, Harry assumed was nine or ten, all had inherited the fiery red hair, and freckled skin from their mother. Two of them, the tallest of the lot, were exact replicas of each other, and insisted on precariously nudging one another, despite their mother's protests.

"Fred, George! For heavens sake boys, could you stop that! Or else someone will end up flattened on the tracks!"

"Yeah, George, stop it" snickered the other twin, Fred.

"We don't want some squished corpse on the train tracks, now do we?" George replied, smirking, as he continued to poke and prod his brother.

The eldest, snooty-looking with a turned up nose and horn-rimmed glasses, whipped his head round.

"Will you two please refrain from drawing any more attention to use, please?" he sighed.

"You're right Percy, your big head already attracts to many stares" the little girl chirped, looking up at her brothers.

Fred and George howled with laughter, and bent down to hi-five their sister.

"Okay Ginny, say goodbye to your brothers, this is it. Platform 9 and 3/4."

Harry pricked up at the mention of Platform 9 and 3/4, and bound over to the family, careful not to knock his owl's gleaming cage off his suitcases. He approached the mother, and nervously coughed, gaining their attention.

"Excuse me, but do you know how I could get to the Platform 9 and 3/4? I'm a little lost, you see."

The woman beamed at him, making Harry feel warm and welcome.

"Its okay dear, it's Ron's first time to Hogwarts too."

The youngest son looked at him, and gave him a friendly smile. Harry repricocated the smile.

"See what you have to do, is to run straight at that wall."

She gestured to the brick wall inbetween Platforms 9 and 10. Harry's eyes widened, and started to wonder if this was some cruel trick. The woman spotted this, and gave him a reassuring look.

"Percy, you don't mind showing this nice boy how it's done, do you?"

The snobby boy from early shook his head, and began to run towards the wall. Harry prepared to look away, grimancing, when he was pleasantly surprised. Percy had disappeared. As if by magic.

Harry mentally scolded himself. It was magic.

The twins shortly followed, and soon enough, they had vanished too.

"Are you okay to go through?" the woman asked, gently.

Harry nodded, breathing in cautiously.

"Good luck" spoke a little voice beside him. He glanced down, and saw the tiny redhead, smiling an encouraging smile. He appreciated her kind words, and grinned back.

And then he disappeared through the wall, with the last of her brothers.

Just as the mother and daughter turned to leave, Ginny tugged on her mother's sleeve, eagerly.

"Mummy, did you see his forehead! Did you see it?"

"See what, Ginny dear?"

"That scar! It looked like a lightning bolt!"

"That's ridiculous, nobody has a lightning bolt shaped scar, except . . . "

"Except Harry Potter."


	2. Saying Her Name

_**Harry James Potter and Ginevra Molly Weasley**_

 _Request the pleasure of your company at their wedding ceremony_  
 _at 3pm_  
 _on the 26th of June_  
 _at the Parish Church of St. Clementine_  
 _in Godric's Hollow_

 _Reception will be held at The Burrow,_  
 _Hosted by The Weasley Family_

 _We look forward to sharing this special day with you._

The father of the bride perhaps was shedding the most tears. Clad in the smartest of all his smart suits, he clung onto a red patched handkerchief, dabbing away the streams of tears that stained his cheeks.

"Oh Arthur, stop being so melodramatic!" Molly scolded, smoothening her mauve dress down, and perching a matching a hat atop her flaming hair.

"I can't help it, Molly, she's our only daughter! The first Weasley girl for generations, this is historic!" he cried, sniffing.

Suddenly, a cough snapped the attention of the proud parents.

In the doorway stood two young girls, beaming. One had dark chestnut hair, and the other had angelic blonde hair, and both of them had their locks thrown up into messy buns. They were both dressed in emerald flowy dresses of the same design; a v-neckline, with embellished shoulders, and a front thigh split that was both flattering but reserved. Heels in the same shade of green hung daintly on their feet.

"We present, your gorgeous daughter" Hermione introduced, smiling widely. Her and Fleur parted, and allowed Mr and Mrs Weasley a clear view of the bride-to-be.

They were speechless. There, in front of them, stood their little girl, now twenty-four years of age, in the most beautious of wedding gowns. It featured a low back, with simplistic spaghetti straps. French lace wrapped around her torso, and chiffon flowed to the floor. Her fiery locks cascaded down her back, reaching just above her shoulder blades. Her porcelain skin, flawless and untouched by imperfections, illuminated. Her lips were a nude colour, and her chocolate coloured eyes glowed with happiness.

She resembled a ray of sunshine. A source of warmth and light, a shot of happiness, and dazzlingly stunning.

Moments ago Molly had scorned her husband for shedding a tear - now, her soft and weary eyes were brimming with them. She carefully placed her hands either side of Ginny's face, and beamed.

"Look at our beautiful daughter, Arthur. We made this" she sobbed, happily.

"We are so proud of who you've become, Ginny" her father spoke, joining his wife's side. "And we hope Harry knows just how lucky he is."

Fleur scoffed.

"When 'e zees 'er in zis dress, 'e won't ever look at anozer girl!"

Molly bit back a retort, and continued to gaze at her daughter.

"Me and your father hope that today is everything you want and more, and we wish you all the best, you and Harry. God knows you've been through enough to get this far."

"Thanks mum" Ginny smiled, kissing her forehead. She was now a whole head taller then her mother, and a mere few inches taller than her father.

A ginger-haired head popped through the doors, and smiled.

"Gin, we're all ready for you in here" Bill told her. He seemed blown away by both his sister, and his wife's appearance.

Molly kissed her daughter one final time, before she finally walked down the aisle. She left the room, but not before warning her husband to blow his nose, and to not trip up.

"Ready?" Hermione asked, and Ginny nodded, without a shred of doubt.

All of the guests proceeded to rise up out of their seats when The Wedding March filled the church. Usually, Fleur attracted the most attention, however today, every eye was on the bride.

Ginny, the bride in question, was grasping a bundle of beautiful green orchids. The chosen green colour of both the flowers and the bridesmaid dresses complimented her complexion and hair colour equally.

She glanced up at the altar, to spot Ron, her brother, looking at her with loving expression. He and Hermione hadn't tied the knot yet, but everyone knew it was destined to happen in the not too distant fututre.

Beside Ron stood The Boy Who Lived, The Chosen One, or as Ginny referred to him as, her meant-to-be. The boy she loved, the boy she never gave up on. Of course, he was a man now.

Harry Potter.

He had his back to her, and Ginny felt the butterflies arise. She drew a shaky breath, as her father kissed her hand, and joined Mrs Weasley on the bench.

Harry turned to face her, and lifted the veil, slowly. When he saw the beauty underneath, her gasped. His mouth hung open, and he had suddenly frozen. Fumbling for words, Ginny adored that she had rendered him lost for words.

"You . . . you . . . you're breathtaking" he breathed, gulping.

Ginny didn't blush, but did smile.

"Thanks, now shut up. I can't wait any longer" she joked.

Harry smirked. He couldn't have been any more certain that he was making the right desicion in his life.

The vicar smiled at the young wizard and the young witch.

"We are gathered her today to witness the union of Harry James Potter, and Geneva Molly - "

"Its Ginevra" Ginny corrected, politely.

"Yes, isn't that what I said? Geneva."

Ginny shook her head.

"No, no, no, it's Gin-ev-ra."

"Gen-ev-a?"

"Nope. Say it with me, Gin."

"Gin."

"Ev."

"Ev."

"Ra."

"Ra."

"Altogether?"

"Genevara."

Ginny groaned, much to the amusement of Harry.

"Not even close."

"Gingenevar?"

"Merlin's beard, no."

"Geningeveva?"

"What the hell kind of name is that?"

She turned to Harry, who was now in fits of laughter.

"I'm sorry love, it's just he's so wrong, it's funny."

"That's fine. If we have a daughter, I'll call her Ginevra the Second, and this guy can christen her."

"Okay then, and our son can be called Harry the Second."

"That's pushing it."

"How about Lightning?"

"It's a human being Harry, not a hamster. Now Gwenog, that's a name."

"If I don't get Lightning, you can't have Gwenog."

And the pair continued on like this for more minutes, blissfully unaware of the rows of guests behind them, and the chuckling vicar they'd left waiting. When they had finished bickering, and the ceremony resumed, Harry looked over at his new wife as they walked the aisle, confetti showering over them. Never had he felt so in love.


	3. Reading

Ginny adored muggle books. She loved to read about lives that were so completely mundane in comparison to hers, so much so it thrilled her. Muggles were not that different from those who possessed magic, and that surprised her. They fought for what they believed in, and they fought well. And what they believed in weren't complete polar opposites. And when muggles fell in love, they fall just as hard and as foolishly as witches and wizards. Blindly, chaotically, and wildly, just as Ginny had. And it was beautiful.

 _Perks of Being A Wallflower_ happened to be Ginny's favourite. She was in her final year of Hogwarts, and the book had just been released. It was marvellous. It was about a boy who stuggled through school, attempting to navigate his way around sex, drugs and friendships. Although Ginny had no experience being a wallflower, and couldn't say she's ever been in _Charlie's_ shoes, she could relate to him, in a way. The underlying message was he loved too hard, too much. Ginny knew what it was like to love with your whole heart, and to have no control over anything as the world literally collapsed around her feet. It was a gift and a curse at the same time.

 _'We accept the love we think we deserve.'_

Did Ginny think she deserved the love of those around her? She hoped she did. She knew she wasn't a bad person, but would she be too arrogant to think that she was deserving of their love?

It's a tricky question. It's like being asked what you're good at. What skills you possess. Nobody can answer that without feeling like they're boasting. Same as answering the question 'what do you think you deserve?'. Ginny believed she deserved to be happy. Her whole family deserved to be happy. At one point she would of excluded Percy from that list, but that's not true any more. He deserves to be forgiven. He came through wehn his family needed him most, and that's what matters most.

Ginny thought back to the Battle of Hogwarts. She remembered what it had felt like to see Harry in Hagrid's arms, limp and lifeless. Her heart ached when the image of the boy she loved's body flashed through her mind. The possibility of Harry, dead, was the most excruciating thing Ginny had lived through. She couldn't imagine a world without Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, The Chosen One. She couldn't imagine loving anyone else. She didn't want to. Ginny didn't deserve to feel like that, not after everything they had fought through together.

But that was the point. They had fought, together. And they had come out stronger than ever. They had survived. Harry and Ginny deserved the love of one another. They deserved to love. And Ginny accepted that.

Suddenly, as if by magic (although it most likely was), Harry himself began walking up the grassy path to The Burrow. Ginny spotted him through her window, and he spotted her. Waving up at her, he gave her the biggest of smiles.

Throwing the book onto the bed, she manouvered her way out onto the landing, and bound down the stairs, faster than, ironically, lightning.

"Bloody hell!" Ron cried, as she pushed past him at the foot of the stairs. "Jesus Gin, why so fast?"

Ginny didn't bother to reply, and proceeded to swing open the front door. A few metres away stood Harry, holding a bag of his belongings, looking more handsome than ever. Running a hand through his inky black hair, and with a gleam in his jade green eyes, he beamed at his girlfriend.

"Hi Ginny" he spoke, softly.

In those two words everything was said. Everything from 'I've missed you' to 'you look cute in that top'. It was a mutal understanding.

Ginny couldn't refrain herself. She didn't see a need to. She ran at Harry, and leaped into his open arms. The pair embraced in a warm and loving kiss, which was long overdue.

Ginny pulled away, and gazed into her boyfriend's eyes.

"Harry, do you think you deserve to be loved?"

He cocked his head to the side, and set her down, still holding on. Pondering over the question, he soon gave her an answer.

"I know that everyone deserves love, that to be unloved is the cruelest form of punishment there is. But to say that I specifically deserve to be loved, that's difficult to answer" he told her, gently. "I know I love you more than anything, and any love reciprocated is a miracle, frankly. Especially after what I've put you through."

Ginny reached out and stroked his cheek, and Harry leant into her touch.

"You deserve so much Harry. So much. The least you deserve is love."

Harry smiled at her, and kisses her again. Its soft, yet full of passion.

"I don't deserve you, Ginny Weasley."


	4. Nightmares

Harry's bed was plastered with blankets, all patched and knitted, and all smelt of lavender. Despite how comforting it all was, he still found himself struggling to drift off. He'd curled up into a ball, he'd tried sleeping side-on, face-up, face-down - it just wasn't working. He was simply not tired.

The twelve o'clock chimes faintly rung in Harry's ear, and he sighed, kicking the blankets off him. He got to his feet, slowly and carefully treading on the non-squeaky floorboards, and tried to find his way to the door. Glancing over to Ron, he saw that his friend was dead to the world, peacefully snoring and drooling.

Harry then attempted the tricky task of finding his way downstairs. He was surprised to see a light on, and that made things all the more easier.

Slowly but surely he reached the foot of the stairs, and plodded into the kitchen. Expecting to find it empty, he was taken aback a little by the small redhead perched on a chair, sipping on a glass of milk. Her weary eyes shot open at the sight of him, and choked a little on her drink.

"Harry!" she whispered, shocked. "What . . . uh . . . what are you doing . . . up so late?"

Ginny had always been shy around him, which apparently was odd, according to her brothers. He'd hardly heard her speak one word, until last year, in the Chamber of Secrets. She had been full of apologies then.

"Couldn't sleep. You?"

She looled down at her glass, and swirled the liquid around for a bit. She seemed reluctant to answer.

"It's okay, you can tell me" Harry assured her, sitting down in a chair across from her at the table.

Ginny gave him a feeble smile.

"Nightmares" she told him, quietly.

Her hand was shaking slightly, and her breathing was ragged. Harry suddenly realised that the events of last year had a much larger effect on her than people assumed. Than Harry had assumed.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked her, softly. She looked at him, slightly surprised, but nodded all the same.

"Every night it's the same. I'm stood in the halls, my hands covered in blood. I don't know whose, but I'm always drenched in it. There's writing on the wall, _mudblood_ I think. And then Tom is there, giving me this twisted smile. I try to run away, but I can hear him laughing. It's horrible. And then, there are bodies, everywhere. There's mum's, there's dad's, there's Ron's, there's Hermione's, there's yours. And there's just about everyone I know, dead, surrounded in pools of blood. Suddenly I can hear hissing, and there's this great huge snake, just looking at me. I'm shouting at it in this strange language, but nothing is happening. Then Tom appears again, and he's holding out his hand. And I take it."

Ginny sounds so distressed, it upsets Harry.

"You have nothing to worry about Ginny, the basilisk is dead. It won't hurt anyone ever again" Harry promised. But she simply shook her head.

"It's not the snake I'm afraid of. It's that Tom was in my head. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was in my head. He was controlling everything that I did. Because of something he told me do in a stupid diary, I opened the Chamber of Secrets!"

"The diary was destoryed, he can't control you any more."

"How do you know that? What if he still has power over me? He could order me to kill any one of you, and I would have no contol over him. I opened the Chamber of Secrets. What else is he going to get me to do?"

Harry had nothing to say. He had no idea if Voldemort still held Ginny's life in his hands, whether he could still contol her. He couldn't promise her anything, and he couldn't help her. And this hurt him. It hurt him to see his best friend's sister so distraught.

Ginny noticed that Harry had nothing to say, and smiled at him, however sad that smile was.

"It's okay if you don't know what to say, just the fact that you sat and listened to me, some teary twelve year old is help enough."

She said that with such kindness, Harry was instantly filled with warmth. How was is that this _teary twelve year old_ happened to be so wise?


	5. YouTube

**A.N/ Okay guys so just a quick authors note to say three things. One: I love everyone who reads this, and I'm so grateful for all the reviews - keep them coming! Second: I'm going away tomorrow to America for two weeks, and won't have my laptop with me, so any updates will be postponed until the 13th of August. I'm really sorry! Lastly: this chapter idea came to me in a dream, and I woke up thinking it was adorable, and I really wanted to write it, when I remembered that the concept of it is practically impossible in Hogwarts. For example, the use of electronical 'muggle' items is prohibited, and that magic interferes with them anyway, preventing them from working. Pretend like this doesn't happen. Also, this chapter is set in 1997, and I understand that YouTube hadn't been invented yet. Again, I'd appreciate if you could forgive that. Thank you!**

Ron and Harry burst through the entance into the Gryffindor Common Room, smiles adorning their rosy faces. They were bundled up in hats and scarves of bright colours, all knitted by the wonderful Mrs Weasley.

Their feet were caked in snow, which they had traipsed all throughout the castle. Fortunately for the, the snow melted as soon as it came into contact with the ground. Unfortunately, this led to great biig puddles everywhere. Puddles Filch wasn't too pleased about.

Beaming, Harry proceeded to unravel the navy blue scarf from around his neck. After peeling his gloves off, then his jacket, he threw them over the armchair closest to the fire. Ron copied, shedding the masses of woolen items from his person.

The pair then went on to discuss Hagrid, whom they had just paid a visit to.

"Was it just me, or did Hagrid seem a little distant, just now?" Harry asked, curious.

"Yeah, he did. He mentioned something about his pet spider being ill. He thinks he's dying" Ron answered, grimancing at the mention of the eight-legged creature.

"Oh, Aragog?"

Ron clicked his fingers, as if to say 'that's it'.

"Bloody miracle in disuise if you ask me" he muttered, under his breath. Harry smirked.

Suddenly, the sound of a girl's giggle could be heard echoing from the boys dormitories.

Raising his eyebrows, Harry turned to Ron. Both were confounded. Girls were prohibited from setting foot in the boys rooms, so why would one be in there at half six in the evening? And why was that laugh so familiar?

"That's it, Dean!"

Harry felt that monster in his stomach growl, as he tightened his fists and clenched his jaw. He tried not to let his jealousy show, so instead he let it eat him up from the inside.

Ron, however, was all for putting his anger out there. He had grown red in the face, and his chest was puffing out.

Up in the boys dorms was his little sister, his only sister, Ginny, doing God knows what with Dean Thomas.

"This is the last straw" Ron roared, as he bound towards their room, steam practically pouring out his ears. Harry followed pursuit.

However, when they reached the doorway, what they saw was not what they had envisioned.

Ginny was sat on Dean's bed, with the most magnificent of smiles on her face. Harry was rendered speechless by this angel in front of him. She wore a dark blue plaid overshirt, and blue jeans. Her fiery hair was framing her flawless face perfectly. Her eyes held a mischieveous glint, which reminded Harry all too much of her brothers, Fred and George.

Dean was perched next to her, his arm snaked around her waist, holding her close to him. He awkwardly looked away when he saw Ron, and slowly removed his hand.

But that didn't concern Ron in the slightest. He was more focused on the fact that Neville and Seamus also were sat on the bed, smiling and laughing too. In Dean's lap he held a shiny object, which seemed to puzzle Ron.

"What the bloody hell is that?" he demanded, pointing a finger at the glowing item.

Dean cocked his head to the side, trying to work out if Ron was joking or not.

"It's a laptop, mate" he answered, after a short while.

You see, Ron had grown up knowing nothing but magic. The Weasley's were a pure-blood family, and this meant they had no ties to the muggle world. Harry had grown up amongst them all, and laptops and computers and phones were a common sight. He thought everyone knew what they were.

Apparently not all, however.

"Isn't it brilliant, Ron!" Ginny cried. Clearly the concept of a laptop was also new to her, and was quite wonderous.

Ron didn't seem to share his sister's opinion, though. He scowled at the object, as he moved closer.

"What does it do?" he queried.

"Well, loads of stuff" Dean replied, adjusting the position of the laptop so both Harry and Ron could see. "See, if you click this button, you can go on the Internet. You can search up anything you like."

"So, it's like a book?"

Dean chuckled.

"Kinda, yeah."

Ginny placed her hand on Dean's leg - which made both Harry and Ron extremely uncomfortable - and leant closer to him, so she could whisper something into his ear. He smiled, and nodded.

"Ron, you have to watch this" she told him, excitedly. "You too, Harry."

Harry couldn't help but feel just a little ecstatic when Ginny said his name. The way her peach lips would form around the letters and the soft sound of her voice, sent shivers up her spine.

Dean then proceeded to click on a tab, which opened up a web page dedicated to showing videos.

"Yutub?" Ron spluttered, frowning. "What the bloody hell is a yutub?"

"It's called YouTube" Neville corrected.

"It's where you can watch whatever you want" Seamus added.

Ron still lokked a little lost, but was now intrigued.

"Here, this is what we've been watching" Ginny said, as a video began to load.

Suddenly, a picture of the most adorable kitten appeared on screen. It began to walk around, clearly in awe of it's surroundings. Then, out of the blue, a car horn beeped from somewhere in the distance, and the kitten jumped out of it's skin. The group released a laugh, and gathered around closer to the laptop.

This is how they all remained, watching funny cat videos on YouTube, for the next three hours, until Neville realised they had missed dinner. None of them minded all that much, though.


	6. How He Feels After The Break-Up

**A.N: I am back from the States! It was incredible! As an English girl through and through, I was so surprised by how massively different the two countires are! Washington kind of reminded of home - we only stayed there for a night so we could catch a flight to JFK, but it was a nicer, friendlier, cleaner version of the town I live in now. And Florida was amazing! We went to both Orlando (Disneyworld, of course) and Miami, and I love both places so much! We spent a night in Charlotte too, when our first flight was delayed, and though it was dark, I really want to go back. New York is perhaps my favourite city in the world, and despite spending seven hours there, we never left JFK. At all. So yeah, that's just a rundown of my holiday, so you guys understand how busy I've been! I'll try and post as many chapters as I can this week for you guys to make up for lost time. Thanks!**

Heart-wrenching. It was the only way to describe the sound of his best friend crying. It really was a terrible noise, devastatingly melancholy. Ron felt as though somebody had given him a ferocious blow to the stomach, as he had no control over the anxious churning of insides.

Peering his head out of the tent, he had to squint his eyes if had any hope of finding Harry. Fortunately he did, as he spotted his friend perched up against an uncomfortable looking oak tree, clutching his legs to his chest for warmth.

Ron got up, and began to approach Harry, treading on a carpet of crisp auburn leaves. And it wasn't just leaves that decorated the forest floor - it was a minefield of coarse logs and jagged rocks, which were practically laying in wait for Ron, as he managed to trip on _every single one_. Cursing silently, he picked himself up, and dusted himself off, kicking the innocent-looking rock to the side with channelled aggression.

"What's that rock ever done to you?" he heard Harry pipe up, in a wobbly voice.

Ron grinned, and sat down next to the boy in question. His grin was soon wiped clean off when he caught sight of Harry's face, illuminated by the auroral moonlight. His best friend looked broken. As if all this running, all this fighting had finally caught up to him. His scar now appeared harsh, and arduous. Thick bags hung under his weary and dull eyes. They once resembled dazzling emeralds (as Ron had been told. Personally, he didn't see it), now they held more comparison to a toad. The worst part, however, was the pools of tears that filled his eyes, and the salty tracks that streamed down his face.

"You look awful" Ron gasped, bluntly.

Harry couldn't help but laugh at this. "Thanks, make."

Ron wondered what had happened, or possibly who Harry was thinking about to get him so distraught. However, Ron thought he had an inkling. A certain redheaded sister perhaps?

"I know what you're going to say" Harry sighed, wiping a tear from face. "You're going to say that it's my own fault I'm in this position. I shouldn't have gotten involved with anyone, when I knew full well what my future held in store."

Ron simply shook his head.

"That's not what I was thinking" he assured Harry. "I was going to say that how you're feeling now, is exactly how Ginny has been feeling for months, how she's probably feeling right now. When you broke up with her, she knew exactly what you were planning to do. What we were planning to do. It tore her apart, and nobody could see it but me, which is crazy cause I never notice these things."

Guilt filled Harry at Ron's words. He didn't know Ginny had took their break-up so hard. He had always thought she was the tough one. Maybe she wasn't as strong as she led everyone to believe.

"I know I shouldn't, and that I'm only going to hurt her, but I can't help how she makes me feel" Harry told Ron, turning his face away from him as if he was ahamed of what he had to say. "I love her. I'm in love with her. And I guess I have been for a while now."

Bracing himself for the disgruntled and sulky reply, Harry closed his eyes, and held his breath. However, the criticsm didn't come. Nothing was said for a while, and Harry wondered if Ron had left him; so appalled by what he had admitted. And then Ron's sigh broke through his thoughts. It was a petulant-sounding sigh, which Harry interpreted as his discomfort at discussing his sister's love life with his best friend, who was the love of her life.

"She loves you too, you know."

Harry looked up at Ron, shocked. Not only had the fact that Ginny loves him too, but that Ron can say that with a straight face. It caused another few tears to streak down his face, except these were lone tears of happiness.

"And you're only going to hurt her if you die. Or get together with some Veela, but to be honest mate, I can't see that happening" Ron spoke, in that uniquely candid way of his.

Harry chuckled, remembering what Ginny had said to him the morning of Bill and Fleur's wedding. He wondered if it was just a coincedence that Ron said that, or he had been listening at the door. Honestly, there was no way of telling.

"I suppose that's one of the reasons I was so set on coming with you. Cause I'm your best mate, of course, and I want to help you in any way I can. But a small part of me doesn't want you to die because I know what that would do to Ginny. And she's my little sister, _my only sister_ , and she's too young to have her heartbroken."

"Too young, and too good" Harry agreed.

He admired Ron's honest way of speaking. Some could call it brusque, maybe even go as far as to say rude, but Harry found it refreshing. He was seventeen - he hated it when adults would sidestep around him, as so not to _hurt his feelings_. Dumbledore was one of the few who told him the truth, and the whole truth. He never once doubted whether Harry could understand what he was telling him, or whether he could handle it. Ron was another one of those honest people, and it was something Harry found commendable.

Ginny also shared this trait, oddly enough. Must be a Weasley thing.

"You broke up with her because it was your weirdly noble way of protecting her, which is all great and all, except that it hurt her. A lot. I love her too, you know. This is my way of protecting her, by protecting you."

"You're a good brother, Ron" Harry pointed out. "Ginny's lucky to have six of you, looking out for her."

"Yeah well, she's a good person."

They sat in silence for a while, that sentance hanging in the air.

"Actually, she's a great person. And as much as I like you Harry, if you mess her about, you're as good as dead to me. I mean, you're my best friend and all, but she's my sister, and I love her, and I want to look after her, like the big brother I am. Alright?"

Harry chuckled.

"Alright."


	7. Celebrity Crushes

**A.N: Okay so for the Australians, imagine Alex Russell, Jai Courtney, Xavier Samuel and James Frecheville. Seriously, these men are gorgeous. And Australian. So, go Google them if you don't know who they are. You're welcome.**

Hermione had decided to take Ginny's advice more often.

Despite the girl being a year and a considerable amount of months older (around eleven months, so nearly two years older) she really did know a fair bit about most things. Not everything, just the important things. Like boys, for example.

You see, Hermione had never dated anyone until Ron - she'd been assured by Ginny that Viktor Krum, and Cormac McLaggen didn't count. She felt as if she'd waded in too deep. A ten thousand word essay on the Legislation Act regarding animal cruelty and it's impact on the popular use of newts and toads in potions; Hermione can write it. A Confundus charm; Hermione can perform one. A Polyjuice Potion - well, you know. Hermione can do absolutely and positively anything, except recite Quidditch players, teams or rules.

And whilst on a date to the _Quidditch World Cup_ , with your _Quidditch-mad boyfriend_ , his equally _Quidditch-mad best friend_ , and your _professional Quidditch-player best friend_ , then it is quintessential that Hermione knows a little something about _Quidditch_.

Just the other day Ginny confided in her the most vital secret to a great relationship, sorry, the _second_ most vital secret to a great relationship. Conversation. It's the same with friends.

Usually Hermione and Ron have a lot to talk about, but she decided that if they would be spending two weeks watching Quidditch match after Quidditch match, she's going to need something more than _"your hair is looking very red today."_

Luckily, this is where her Quidditch Team Captain best friend comes in. Ginny didn't know much about what Hermione was good at - which was an expansive list ranging from the medicinal properties of Henbane, to which actress voiced Belle in Disney's Classic Beauty and the Beast in 1991 (Paige O'Hara, if you're curious). However, Ginny knew far more about Quidditch than Hermione did.

And so, for preparation for the two weeks that loomed ahead in the future, Hermione memorised the players of the International teams, and statistics about them. Who they play for, what number robe they wear, what kind of broom they fly etc.

When the time came to leave for the World Cup, Ginny was impressed by how much Hermione had learned, in such a short space of time.

The pair were discussing this, to themselves, quietly, whilst striding ahead of Ron and Harry as they made their way to the Portkey. The boys, though usually oblivious, took note of how their girlfriends were behaving, and wondered.

"They're up to something, aren't they?" Ron asked, narrowing his eyes. "You just know it."

Harry laughed, shaking his head.

"Mate, if we assumed they were scheming something every time they acted like this, then they'd be under constant surveilance" he told his friend.

Ron nodded, though still skeptical. In an attempt to change the topic, Harry gestured to his girlfriend.

"Do you think it will be different, this year? I mean, going with a professional Quidditch player and all?"

Shrugging, Ron turned to answer. "Probably not. I mean, think about all the other players who are going to be there. International players. And the Holyhead Harpies are great and all, but they're no Chudley Cannons."

Harry snorted. He didn't want to burst Ron's bubble, so kept quiet.

Chudley Cannon's were twenty-first in the league - three above last place. Holyhead Harpies were second, a mere three points behind the leaders.

Crack! The familiar piercing sensation, which felt like an awful mixture of someone drilling into your eardrums, and standing on a fishing boat in the storm, was nauseating. Harry blinked a couple of times, until the colours around him ceased blending into one hazy rainbow.

The Quidditch World Cup Comitee did not disappoint. The landscape, which had once been a plain and fruitless field, now bustled with life. Witches and wizards from all walks of life merged as one spirited and jubilant crowd, gathered to witness the cream of the crop (ironic to use this phrase, whilst stood on ground that probably hasn't seen crop of any kind in decades) compete in the greatest of all sports, muggle and magical sports alike.

"So much to see, so little time! The Italy/Australia game is in an hour!" Hermione exclaimed, her brown eyes bright with wonder. Her wispy hazel hair was slung up high, and she was clad in a pale blue blouse and blue, fading jeans. Hermione was beautiful, Harry wasn't oblivious to that. She was his best friend, and he was glad that she finally took her head out of the books and realised that Ron had been there the whole time.

Walking alongside Hermione was Ron, her small hand in his. She looked up at him, and beamed. This made Harry smile - seeing two of his closest friends happy together.

Speaking of happiness, Harry found his eyes glued to the slim figure of Ginny as she rushed ahead of them all, soaking in all things Quidditch. This was what she lived, all she had ever wanted. She thrived on the pitch, prospered even, and ate and dreamed and breathed the game.

Running her fingers along the polished wooden handles of all the classic brooms, her eyes lit up. She swivelled her head round to flash Harry a grin, which sent shivers up his spine. Hermione was beautiful, there's no denying it, but Ginny was magnificently stunning. Harry found that _stunning_ was usually used sparingly, but in this case it meant exactly how it was supposed to - when people laid eyes on Ginny, boys mainly, Harry would watch as their jaws drop and they lose the ability to speak. _She, quite literally, stunned them._

Dressed specifically in Australia's national colours, green and gold, Ginny radiated both beauty and joy. The colours complimented her immensely, creating an illusion that her hair was aflame. She was wearing a baggy forest green jumper, embellished with the Australian Quidditch logo, that hung off her slender frame, and black jeans. Gold adorned her every accessory, which included her beige Timbland boots, a beige backpack and beige jewellery.

Ginny stuck out among the crowd, partly because she wasn't traditionally dressed like a lot of them were, partly because she was alluring.

Ron suddenly nudged Harry in the ribs with his elbow, abruptly snapping his attention.

"Oi, why is every man and his dog staring at my sister like that?" he questioned, clearly annoyed by the amount of *male* attention Ginny was recieving.

"How could they not?" Harry answered. _She's beautiful._ He declined to say this out loud. "She's the incredibly talented Captain of a renowned Quidditch team, celebrated and supported by tens of thousands around the world."

"Ginny's a household name" Hermione added, matter-of-factly.

Ron merely grunted, shaking his head. He pointed towards a group of four young wizards, quite a bit older than her, all who were eyeing Ginny with fascination. They all wore green and gold too, and shared a glorious tan.

"I don't like how they're looking at her" he growled. Harry followed his finger, and saw the men. He too did not appreciate the way they admired his girlfriend. He especially despised when they approached her.

Just as Harry and Ron prepared to run over, Hermione held them both back. She stood in front of them both, an eager expression on her face.

"Don't go over there and cause a scene, please" she began, determined to get her message across to them. "Look at their faces - don't you recognise them? It's Jarrah Killian, Clancy Cainan, Eugene Balder, and Lucas Faulk - Australia's best Chasers! Seeing as Ginny is number 27th in the world, she outranks Killian, Cainan and Faulk. They're bound to know who she is, they're probably just fans."

Harry and Ron couldn't decide at what they were more shocked; the fact they were a mere few meters away from professional Quidditch players, or that Hermione knew who they were, and their rankings.

"Oh . . . right . . . well then" Ron stuttered, at loss for words. Harry just nodded, as he continued to watch the exchange between Ginny and the four men. Hermione's words did give him some comfort, however although he was ashamed to admit it, these men were striking, some would even deign to call them _handsome_ , and he felt a pang of jealousy course through him.

Harry tried to watch from the sidelines, but found it increasingly difficult, especially when he heard them all laugh about something. He couldn't hold it in any longer, and leapt across the field. He placed an arm around his girlfriend's waist, and held her close.

"There you are, Ginny" he cried, with feigned surprise. He planted a kiss on her cheek, then turned to her company. He faked even more shock. "Oh my God, you're from the Australian team, aren't you! Jarrah Killian, Clancy Cainan and Lucas Faulk . . . and I'm sorry, your name has escaped me."

The man chuckled, and stroked his chin. "Eugene Balder, number 18th ranked Quidditch player in the world. But, it's fine. You're that guy who defeated the Dark Lord, aren't you? Um . . . Henry something?"

The two men were clearly aware of who the other was, but somehow found battling back and forth like this far more entertaining.

"Harry Potter" he replied, and held his hand out. They all shook it, in a form of greeting.

"You're lovely girlfriend here was just telling us where she would be sat, so that we would be able to see her whilst playing. She's our good luck charm, y'see" the smallest one, Lucas, spoke.

Harry cocked his eyebrow, curious. He felt Hermione and Ron slide in next to him. Obviously they had been listening in, and were interested in hearing the story too.

"Well, it was two years ago I think, might have been a bit more, when we met Ginny in the lockers at one of Holyhead Harpies matches - "

"They were in the girls changing rooms?" Ron roared, glaring at Ginny.

"It was before the match, during our press interviews, Jesus Ron" Ginny assured him, punching him in the arm. Rubbing his arm, Ron just said "oh" and shut his mouth.

The Australians laughed, as Clancy resumed their storytelling.

"So yeah, we were in the lockers, whilst the girls were all doing their interviews. Gwenog's a good friend of ours, so we had showed up for support. However, with her being the Captain and all, she was very busy. We spotted Ginny, stood alone, prepping her gear. None of us knew who she was - no one did, it was her first time in a Holyhead Harpies jersey - and oh, how do I put it - "

"She looked gorgeous, basically" Jarrah interrupted, bluntly, smirking. Ginny blushed.

"Yeah, she did. So naturally we had to talk to her. Immediatley we were charmed, and have been fans, and friends, ever since."

Ginny flashed them a smile,and they returned one. Harry, however, didn't understand.

"I don't get it - how's she your good luck charm?"

"It was the day I met my now-fiance" Eugene answered, cooly. Harry immediatley felt ridiculous.

"Oh."

"I found out my girlfriend was expecting" Clancy said, adding to Harry's embarrassment further.

"I made Australia's national squad" Lucas continued.

"And I found a Galleon" Jarrah rounded it up, shrugging.

In a feeble attempt to correct himself, Harry proceeded to change the subject.

"So, are you nervous about your match against Italy? They have some good players" Harry pointed out. Ginny laughed.

"Please, their Keeper, Calogero Petri, couldn't catch a Quaffle to save his life, even if it was the size of his huge ego" she scoffed. The Australians chuckled.

"And Cipriano Tanzini, their pathetic excuse for a Beater, has a phobia of hights!" Clancy laughed.

Apparently the Italians weren't all that good, according to the five professional Quidditch Chasers. Harry thought they weren't that bad.

"Speaking of the match, we should get going" Eugene sighed, glancing down at his watch. The others muttered in agreement, and began to say their goodbyes. Each gave Ginny a kiss on the cheek, Hermione too, despite not knowing who she was, and shook Ron and Harry's hands.

"That jersey looks great on you, I got the right size, didn't I?" Jarrah queried, glancing down at the redhead. She laughed, holding out the material, which she could of fit about three other Ginny's into.

"It fits perfectly" she joked, and he beamed at her. Joining the others, he gave Ginny one final wink.

"We'll look for you in the crowd, okay Weasley?"

"I'd be hurt if you didn't, Balder" she replied, waving.

When the four Australians were nothing but another speck of green in the sea that was Australian supporters, Harry turned to Ginny, with furrowed eyebrows.

"You told me you got that jumper from a friend on the team?" he questioned, confused.

"Yeah. Gwenog gave it to me, from Jarrah" she answered, shrugging, as if they was nothing wrong with receiving presents from other blokes.

"Hmm" Harry murmured, doubtful. Ginny noticed his insecurity, and placed her hands on his chest. Leaning in close, he breathed in her heartwarming scent of flowers. Gazing into her brigth brown eyes, that resembled delicious pools of chocolate, he saw nothing but sincerity.

"I promise you're the only man for me, Harry Potter. I love you and only you" she whispered. She pressed her lips against his, and the two warmly embraced, until Ron's obvious discomfort could be heard behind them.

Ginny walked hand in hand with Harry to find a space where they could pitch up their tent. Hermione and Ron also walked beside them, hand in hand too. Ginny turned to Hermione, and smirked.

"You've got to admit, they were pretty fit though."


	8. An Emotional Film

**A.N: I feel like I need to clarify that to me, this film isn't emotional. However, seeing as I've only ever cried at three films, this suited the drabble better. What were those three films none of you ask? Perks of Being a Wallflower is the one that gets to me the most. Y'know at the end, when Charlie's sat at his desk, trying to get himself to stop crying? That makes me so sad, and it's so powerful. But I couldn't do that, seeing as I've already written a drabble about that book. Then there's Blended, and I know that it's not a sad film, however I went to the pictures to see it with my friends a couple of weeks after my dad walked out on me and my brothers, so it kinda stung to watch the part when they're discussing the dad who bails on them all the time, so that wouldn't have made Harry and Ginny emotional, I guess. Then there's Madagascar 2, when young Alex is being taken away, and something about that scene made seven year old me very upset. That one's pathetic, I know. Anyway, here is a drabble about Harry and Ginny watching** _ **Titanic**_ **.**

 _"Fifteen-hundred people went into the sea, when the Titanic sank from under us. There were twenty boats floating nearby… and only one came back. One. Six were saved from the water, myself included. Six… out of fifteen-hundred. Afterward, the seven-hundred people in the boats had nothing to do but wait… wait to die… wait to live… wait for an absolution… that would never come. … No, there wouldn't be, would there? And I've never spoken of him until now… Not to anyone… Not even your grandfather… A woman's heart is a deep ocean of secrets. But now you know there was a man named Jack Dawson and that he saved me… in every way that a person can be saved. I don't even have a picture of him. He exists now… only in my memory."_

"I don't understand, what's the Titanic?" Ginny mumbled to Harry, leaning across to whisper in his ear.

Harry, who was clutching the now half-empty bowl of popcorn, drizzled in butter, didn't take his eyes off the screen as he muttered a reply.

"It's this really famous muggle boat that sunk like a hundred years ago. Now shh, you'll miss what she's saying" he rushed, holding a finger up to his mouth as if to convey the importance of not speaking. Ginny rolled her eyes, and turned back to the television that was conveniently placed in the middle of their small apartment living room.

Crossing her arms, she leant back into the cream sofa, and exhaled heavily. Ginny had inherited the same irritable habit that Fred, George and Ron had - the inability to sit still, in silence. For mum's birthday last year, Bill and Fleur had bought her _Celestina Warbeck's Greatest Hits_ record, and they could barely get past the third song until Fred, George and Ginny had all picked up pots and pans and tried to put their own spin on _'Flighty Aphrodite'_. When they were little, their parents would make them sit in different rooms - Ginny would usually be confinded to the _Naughty Step_ \- if they were being a nuisance.

Ginny found that if she was watching a really great film, or reading a good book, then she could sometimes get wrapped up in it, and sit still for a few hours. But it had to be spectacular. And so far, _Titanic_ hadn't caught her attention.

Fortunately, Harry loved the film so much so he didn't notice that Ginny didn't.

...

"Surely if you put an old lady in a wheelchair on a rocky death trap they call a boat, wouldn't she just roll around everywhere? I mean she probably has arthiritis, and won't be able to control - "

"For Heavens sake Ginny, they can't kill the main character off ten minutes into the film!"

"I'm just saying that there's a huge chance her dog could jump off her lap, and in a desperate attempt to chase after it, she could fall overboard."

"Rose is a loving pet owner, that Pomeranian isn't going anywhere."

"It might, if Rose smells like prunes."

"You're very frustrating sometimes, you know that?"

"And you have an unhealthy obssession with a chick flick. But we love each other anyway."

"That all depends on if you can stay quiet through this film."

"Haha, no. If you love me, you'll let me tune in to the late night Quidditch scores?"

"If you love me, you'll let me watch this film with my restless and beautiful and _silent_ girlfriend?"

"Touché, Potter."

...

 _"Well, yes, ma'am, I do… I mean, I got everything I need right here with me. I got air in my lungs, a few blank sheets of paper. I mean, I love waking up in the morning not knowing what's gonna happen or, who I'm gonna meet, where I'm gonna wind up. Just the other night I was sleeping under a bridge and now here I am on the grandest ship in the world having champagne with you fine people. I figure life's a gift and I don't intend on wasting it. You don't know what hand you're gonna get dealt next. You learn to take life as it comes at you… to make each day count."_

The arrival of the infamous _Jack Dawson_ on screen had perked Ginny up a little, as she stopped biting her fingernails out of desperation, and instead perched forward, as to _watch the film better_.

Leonardo DiCaprio, for that was his real name, was nothing short of a phenomenon. He was the miracle needed to get Ginny to sit still for long enough so that Harry could believe that she too shared his adulation for the classic film. Ginny allowed to him to continue thinking this, rather than know the truth, which was that she found _Jack Dawson_ incredibly handsome.

"I wouldn't mind sleeping under a bridge with you" Ginny muttered, under her breath.

"What was that, love?" Harry asked, oblivious.

"Oh, um, I was just saying he's a very good actor. Very . . . talented."

"Isn't he? It's a shame he's never won an Oscar."

"Hmm . . . yeah, a shame" Ginny trailed, unsure of who or what an _Oscar_ was. She figured it was some kind of tournament where they challenge actors strength, intelligence and bravery, like the Triwizard Tournament.

"I would have thought he'd be quite good at battling dragons" Ginny sighed.

"What?"

...

Ginny was howling with laughter, holding her sides as she rolled around on the sofa. Harry merely watched, an expression on his face most commonly found on a Sex Ed teacher giving a lesson on how babies are conceived.

"It's not that funny" he sighed.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"I happen to think that it's a very emotional scene" Harry continued.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"The way that Rose finally accepts and trusts Jack enough to appear bare in front of him is truly a marvellous thing" Harry tried again.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Okay, so fine, she's naked. And yes, he's drawing her! Get over it! It's a beautiful scene, and if you can't respect that then you're . . . you're . . . then you're just an immature baby!"

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

...

 _"Excuse me, why have the engines stopped? I thought I felt a shudder?"_

 _"I shouldn't worry, madam, we've likely broke a propellor blade. That's the shudder you felt - may I bring you anything?"_

Harry was on the edge of his seat now, gnawing on his lip. He'd seen this film so many times now, he couldn't keep count, but what was to come always made his stomach churn.

"Ginny, are you watching?" he asked, not breaking his gaze on the screen, as he reached a hand out to grab her attention. Instead he felt nothing. Looking over he saw her not seated on the sofa, but stood up, in the doorway, in nothing but her underwear. He gulped, the lacy black fabric leaving little to the imagination.

She was sniggering, and he knew the second he saw her what she was up to.

"Hey Harry, _draw me like one of your French girls_."

"Oh my God."

...

 _"I love you, Jack."_

 _"Don't you do that, don't say your good-byes. Not yet, do you understand me?"_

 _"I'm so cold."_

 _"Listen, Rose. You're gonna get out of here, you're gonna go on and you're gonna make lots of babies, and you're gonna watch them grow. You're gonna die an old... an old lady warm in her bed, not here, not this night. Not like this, do you understand me?"_

 _"I can't feel my body."_

 _"Winning that ticket, Rose, was the best thing that ever happened to me... it brought me to you. And I'm thankful for that, Rose. I'm thankful. You must do me this honor. Promise me you'll survive. That you won't give up, no matter what happens, no matter how hopeless. Promise me now, Rose, and never let go of that promise."_

 _"I promise."_

 _"Never let go."_

 _"I'll never let go, Jack. I'll never let go."_

"Couldn't she move over a bit? I mean, she's no Dudley, and that plank of wood could fit at least like five other people on there!"

"Don't ruin this for me Ginny! Don't you even!" Harry exclaimed, loudly. Ginny sat back, mumbling something about pricks under her breath. He wasn't sure he she was talking about his prick, or calling him one. Sighing, he reached over for her hand, and flashed her a smile.

"However, I love that you referrenced Dudley though."

Ginny beamed back up at him, and looked over towards the television.

"Bet she lets go, though."

". . . . . "

"Called it."

...

Harry and Hermione stood on the tube, clutching the handrails with one hand, rubbing the sleep out of their eyes and covering their mouths as they yawned with the other one.

"Late night?" Hermione asked, imbetween yawns.

Harry nodded, lifting his glasses up off of his eyes so that he massage the bridge of his nose with exhaustion.

"Stayed up because _Titanic_ was on BBC1" he explained. "Ginny's first time watching it."

"We watched that too" Hermione replied, sounding as equally exhasperated.

"I love my girlfriend, but sometimes I wish that she wasn't so excitable and hyperactive, y'know? Although now that I think about it . . . it is quite adorable."

"Let me guess - she reenacted that French-girl-drawing scene, right?"

Harry looked over at Hermione, with surprise, and nodded.

"Ron did the same thing" she sighed, clarifying how she knew.

"Oh. That sounds about right."


	9. Late Night Conversations

**A.N: So, just a quick author's note to thank everyone who reads this story, who are following and favouriting, and those who are reviewing. It really does mean a lot that people like what I write, and that you are guys are taking the time to tell me. Huge shoutouts to scrappy8, Anika798 (you made MY day), pottermum (OMG same! But I tried to pick Aussies only - maybe Jamie can make an appearance . . . ?), TheShulesLovinPsycho, JeanAndBilius, michaelcombs, Starrya47, BlackImpalaCruising, Bridget, ARTwrites, Betty Peril, McNerdybird, Tom Kristal, chrissylu9, letr1994, marzipan18, Deadman19, nico2883, and to anyone else who reads this. Thank you all so, so, much.**

 **P.S: I hope this chapter doesn't have too much of an Ed Sheeran vibe, I've had his album on repeat for days now. Actually, I hope it does. That guy kills.**

 **P.P.S: Sorry, I promise that I'll let you read this chapter, just one more thing. It occurred to me halfway through writing this, that everybody found out about Harry and Ginny when they kissed in the Common Room. This chapter is kind of inspired by the film version, where the pair kissed in the Room of Requirement. Trust me, it will make sense when you read it.**

 **CAUTION: Also, a quick heads up, this chapter does involve quite a bit of swearing, mainly on Ginny's part. So, if you are easily offended, I'd skip this chapter. Or just skip the story. I'm English, and not the posh kind, so I swear a lot. Just warning you all now.**

In the morning the Common Room was awash with all kinds of people; those who had been up for hours and were already prepped for another schoolday (cough cough Hermione), those who had been up all night, giving a feeble attempt at homework _long overdue_ , half-heartedly (Ginny), those who had slept in and were scrambling around, fighting over whose pair of socks belonged to who (Ron). Harry, however, fit into his own kind of category. He usually observed, and watched the chaos unfold around him. He enjoyed moments like this, because this was where he learnt the most - observing. This was where he got to glimpse into other people's lives, into how they truly were. An odd thought, yes, but a true one. Sit somewhere, anywhere, though airports and train stations are excellent places, and just watch. It's truly eye-opening. People don't normally comprehend that people are even looking in their direction, let alone _noticing._ This is how they really are, when they think no one is looking. And it's magnificent.

In the evening, Harry couldn't watch. He found he didn't mind as much, because he was amongst it all then. He would sit with Hermione and Ron, and listen to the two of them bicker, usually about him, and he would join in, trying to mediate, poorly.

The Common Room was really an amazing place. Somehow it looked homely, and comfortable - a feeling Harry had only ever experienced in Hogwarts and at The Burrow. The reds and gold made him proud to be a Gryffindor, and made the place brilliantly regal looking. As if it wasn't a school, but the chambers of a 6th century King.

Now Harry was alone, after everyone had gone to bed, he could take it all in, the splendour of Gryffindor Tower. Curtains of crimson hung from the window place, golden fringe adorning the velvet. Tapestries, depicting all sorts of wonderful scenes from inside Hogwarts, decorated the stone walls. The infamous moving paintings also took pride of place in the center of each wall, their inhabitants all slumbering - making the room eerily silent, compared to the usual hub of noise. Now that outside was pitch black, fire was the only remaining source of light. Candles burned brightly around the room. The amber fire was now the only source of heat, after the warm June sun had set, leaving the air chilly. It was blazing, and scolding hot.

Harry smirked, thinking about another a different fiery redhead who was blazing, and scolding hot. His mind wandered back to their first kiss the previous day in the Room of Requirement. In all honesty, Harry hadn't been expecting it, but was more than happy when it came. His lips tingled at the memory.

Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around Harry's neck from behind, and he was engulfed in the bewitching scent of jasmine. Turning round slightly, he found he was face to face with the fiery redhead he had just been thinking about. Ginny Weasley.

Somehow, at eleven thirty at night he found that free of all make-up (however subtly she wore it) and clad in her teal pyjamas, her red hair hanging straight, ending at her elbows, he tought she was the most angelic, fascinating and beautiful thing he could ever have observed.

He gazed upon her face, his jaw slack and his eyes wide. Half of her face was hidden by a shadow, the other half illuminated by fire.

"What is it?" she asked, her eyebrows furrowing. Harry held her hand, gently, and guided her round the sofa to where he was sitting. She took the seat next to him, as he took a hold of both hands.

"I've been thinking about us, and I feel that - " Harry begun, in a low voice.

"Oh God" Ginny sighed, assuming the worst. She pulled her hands from his grip, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Biting her lip she looked distressed, but no tears came.

"Not going to lie, I thought this was going to happen. I mean, I'm Ron's little sister. I'm always going to be _Ron's little sister_ " she muttered, her face full of hurt. It pained Harry.

"You're right, you're Ron's little sister. That's why - "

Ginny shot up, looking upon Harry with disgust.

"Shit! I get that he's your best friend Harry, but . . . you know that he has a thing for Hermione right? And she likes him too, she just hasn't realised it. God, that's perfect. Fucking perfect. You know I've had this problem with every boy I've ever liked. Yes, Michael was a prick, but it was because he was scared of my brothers. Dean was uncomfortable even holding hands in public, let alone kissing me, after Ron and you caught us. Shit! I've done it again, haven't I?"

She was so offended, that Harry immediatley felt guilty - despite not actually trying to break up with her.

"I thought you were different, Harry, I really did. I like you, a hell of a lot, and I thought that you were . . . No it's fine. I'll go back to being Ron's little sister, and you can go back to being Harry _bloody_ Potter" Ginny shook her head, scoffing. She pointed at him, anger rising now.

"This isn't about Ron, Ginny. Not really - "

"Oh my God. Oh my fucking God. You're going after _him_ aren't you? You think you're the only one who can do this? Well that's bullshit! You're sixteen Harry. And what you're doing isn't fair to a lot of people. You're going to hurt a lot of people. I mean, yeah I'm pissed, but I'm not the only one who will be. God, you're too bloody noble, you know that? Shit. This is . . . this is fucking great. Will it change your mind if I tell you that I really like you, like really, really like you? I mean, I've liked you for a long time, and I just . . . shit, of coure it's not going to change your mind. What am I even saying? I swear I'm not some control freak, I just can't even . . . "

Harry never got to find out what the end of the sentance was, as he couldn't bear to see Ginny so cut up about something he could help. He leapt off the sofa, and cupped Ginny's face in his hands, and kissed her. She was surprised at first, her body tensed up, until she finally gave in, and returned the kiss. Her hands took ahold of his face too, and the pair moulded together, not an inch of space between them. It was passionate, and ardent. It was as if they had been apart for years, desperate for the others' touch. And in a way, they had been apart. Each had yearned for one another for _a long time_ , and this was their reconcilliation.

Harry pulled away, still clutching onto Ginny's face. He looked her in the eyes, eyes that were replaying the emotions of that kiss.

"I don't ever want to hurt you, Ginny. Yes you are Ron's sister, but I choose you. If this means Ron hates me, then we can deal with that together. I really, really like you too, a lot, and I've made my mind up. I want you. I need you."

Ginny smiled, happily. She kissed him again, short but sweet - however difficult it was to keep it short and sweet.

"You really are bloody noble, aren't you?" she laughed. He laughed too, as they both sat back down, in their previous seats on the ruby red sofa.

Harry then began to speak in a hushed voice, praying that nobody had heard Ginny earlier.

"Listen, what I wanted to say was that I think we need to hold off telling people about us, just for a few weeks."

Cocking her head to the side, Ginny looked at Harry with confusion. "Why?"

Harry looked down, heat rising to his cheeks.

"Honestly?" Ginny nodded. "I'm afraid what people are going to say, about us. You're you, the ridiculously gorgeous, hilarious, uber-talented Quidditch player. And I'm . . . me."

Ginny felt one of her heartstrings snap, as she looked upon her boyfriend's (she still loved saying that) face. He resembled a lost, little puppy. Adorable, but sad.

"Harry Potter, are you insecure?" she asked, not a hint of mocking in her question.

"Well . . . I mean, I . . . you could say . . . yeah, yeah I am" he spluttered, chuckling despite himself.

"Why, though? If anything, I should be insecure! You're Harry fucking Potter! The Boy Who Lived, defeater of Death Eaters, slayer of trolls and snakes and dragons, Triwizard Champion - "

"I only one that on account of Cedric's death."

"Shut up, I'm on a roll. Co-founder and leader of Dumbledore's Army - "

"You came up with the name."

"You're not helping! Master of Defense Against the Dark Arts, conqueror of evil Professors, member of the infamous Slug Club - "

"So are you."

"What I'm trying to say is that you're amazing, and great, and handsome, and corageous, and brave, and noble, and smart, and a hero, and I like you, and screw everyone else because this is about you and me, and did I mention that I really like you?" Ginny mustered, breathing heavily.

Harry laughed. "Once or twice, yeah."

The pair sat, and gazed at each other for a while, just revelling in the fact that _they liked each other_.

Ginny inched closer, and put her forehead on Harry's, and closed her eyes. She was close enough for Harry to smell the peppermint on her breath.

"I think you're amazing" Harry whispered.

And that was all Ginny needed. She placed her hands on his cheeks, and kissed him. His hands found her waist, and pulled her closer to him, whilst her fingers laced through his unruly hair. They rarely paused for breath.

Harry pulled away, once more, gasping for air, his glasses crooked.

"You're a really, really, _really_ great kisser" he told her. She smiled, and thanked him, leaning forward to resume the kiss, until Harry broke away once more.

"See this is why I'm insecure. My only kiss was with Cho, and she was crying. You're really good at it, and I can't help but wonder if you learnt that from Dean, or Michael, or . . . "

"Harry, yes I've had boyfriends before you. Yes I've kissed them. But I'm with you now, and you're a good kisser too. You have no reason to be insecure."

Unable to hide his smug expression, Harry smiled.

"You think I'm a good kisser, eh?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes I do."

"Huh. Well, get ready to be kissed like you've never been kissed before."

"Oh God" Ginny said, as she stood up. "I'm tired now, but I'll see you at breakfast, alright?"

Sighing, Harry nodded. Ginny winked at him, and made her way up the stairs. Harry watched her figure retreat up the stairs, and leant back in the sofa. Glancing up at the clock, he realised it was now twelve forty-five. Shocked, he got up, deciding to try and salvage a good night's sleep.

Putting one foot on the steps towards the boy's dorms, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He swivelled around, to see Ginny, looking at him with a determined look on her face.

"I thought I'd take you up on that offer" she said, biting her lip. A breath hitched in his throat as she reached forward, and kissed him. He returned it, and not long after, he had Ginny pressed up against a wall. His hands were holding her waist against his body, whilst her were snaked around his waist. Harry decided he could live in this posiion forever. Just him and her, the warmth and heat rising in their bodies, her lips on his, her hands in his hair. All that mattered was the two of them. Well, that and . . .

"What do you mean Ron likes Hermione?"

"Ron likes me? And what are you two doing?"

Hermione, her frizzy hair tied back, a little messy from her hours of sleep. She was rubbing her eyes, yawning, however still managed to look surprised, despite still tired.

Ginny turned to Harry, both of their eyes wide. Neither had moved from their position - pressed up against each other.

"Shit" Ginny gasped. She freed herself from Harry's hold, and walked up to Hermione. She placed her hands on her shoulder, and led her up the stairs back to bed.

"This is just a dream, none of what you saw or heard is true . . . "

Harry chuckled, despite himself. He should of been worried about Hermione catching them. He should of been worried that his best friend liked his other best friend. But he just couldn't stop thinking about _that kiss_.


	10. Classroom

**A.N: This chapter is inspired by Teen Wolf, episode 4x02, and if you watch the show religiously like I do, then you'll know which part I mean once you read it. That show is really great, and I really love this part. If you don't watch it however, or you haven't reached Season 4 yet, then fear not. This reveals nothing, gives no spoilers away, and it has nothing to do with Teen Wolf. It merely is a scene I found quite funny. Thank you everyone. Also, I'm going to be doing a lot of TV/Film Scene inspired chapters, so I hope you'll stick with me for them. This one is short, just because I'm going to my friend's house tomorrow night for a party, and I'll probably only have time to write another short one then. This one isn't really Hinny, more so Ginny kicking ass. Hope you like it!**

 **Heads up to angieclever for following and favouriting! Thank you!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf, or Harry Potter, or anything really. Also the paragraph below is mainly taken from Harry Potter Wiki. Just putting that out there.**

"Gellert Grindewald, the infamous dark wizard, was a complex figure in his day, highly idealistic, however marred by socipatic tendancies and his links with the Dark Arts. He was a revolutionary figure, operating outside of the law. Despite not being a wanton killer or a torturer, he and his followers - of which there was many - did commit serveral crimes, including numerous known murders. Born in 1882, this puts him at the age of seventeen when he sought to create an army of Inferi. It is unkown whether he was successful. Who can tell me what Inferi are?"

Kingsley Shacklebolt was the newly appointed Defense Against the Dark Art teacher - a position with big boots to fill. Kingsley was a respectable man, and his reputation as both an Auror and an Order of the Pheonix member was remarkable. He was also a kind man, and this remided them of their previous Professor, Remus Lupin. However, he was incredibly dull when giving lectures. And sadly, seeing as many Seventh Years who should of been in their Seventh Year during the Battle of Hogwarts, had returned to resume their schooling, alongside the actual Seventh Years, they needed a hell of a lot of revision. So, each class consisted of an hour long lecture, given to them by Professor Shacklebolt.

Hermione quite enjoyed his lectures, being one of the few. She knew most of the answers, and she liked knowing things. Harry, oddly enough, liked his lessons too. He was good at Defense Against the Dark Arts, and knew the answers too. Ron, however, despised it. He wasn't very good at either listening or knowing, and this meant he was confinded to doing only one thing in Kingsley's lessons - sleeping. Ginny also didn't like the how the Professor taught, even if she did like the Professor himself. She could perform the spells, very well too, but she couldn't tell you much about them. She wasn't a huge fan of the whole _school_ side of school. She didn't mind learning, but found she couldn't remember lots of information, and had trouble organising. Despite being a very intelligent girl, she wasn't very academic in a sense.

"Sir, Inferi are the bodies of those who have passed, reanimated by a Dark Wizard. They are similar, but intrinsically distinct from zombies. They are created by using Necromancy."

"Correct, Miss Granger."

Ginny rolled her eyes. She loved Hermione, but she didn't love that she knew everything.

Sat quite near the back of the room, Ginny had a clear view of everybody else. She could see Harry, two seat in front and one to the left of her. He would occassionally turn around and flash her a smile. Then Hermione, of course, was at the front. Ron was one behind Harry, and Ginny could see him fast asleep on the desk, as usual. She stifled a laugh, as his head rolled off the desk, and he woke himself up. But a mere few seconds later, he was fast asleep again.

"Can anyone tell me where Inferi can be found?"

"They are most common in Great Britain, and they dwell in the cold and darkness."

This time Harry answered. Ginny's eyes shot upon, flicking through her book. She had been busy highlighting every piece of information she could find - with her brand new Muggle invention called _a highlighter_ , a fluorescent ink-filled object that was far more uselful than a bloody quill - that she hadn't been on the right page. She placed the highlighter in her mouth, horizontally, and bit down on it. She began to rifle through her book, and looked for the section about Inferi.

Oh, a page about the Rudimentary Body Potion. Must. Highlight. That.

"Miss Weasley, could you please tell the class what Inferi are afraid of?"

Ginny felt her stomach drop, as she slowly looked up, highlighter still in her mouth. Everybody's eyes were on her now, and it was unnerving, to have a class of thirty-something pupils look at you with such intensity. She pointed to herself, as if asking if he meant her.

"Yes, you."

"You don't mean Hermione, do you?" she joked, taking the highlighter out. She caught her friend's eyes, and she merely frowned at her.

"No, Ginny, I mean you" Kingsley clarified. "Do you know what Inferi are afraid of?"

Ginny looked down at her page, and silently scolded herself for getting distracted. "Um . . . Harry Potter?" she replied, sarcastically.

The class erupted into laughter, and even the Professor struggled to keep his mouth straight. However, his eyes gave him away.

"Yes Ginny, they are" he sighed. He perched himself on his desk, and crossed his arms. Even if he did find the youngest Weasley funny, and did quite like her, he wanted to teach her a lesson - an actual lesson.

"Can anyone else tell me what Inferi fear most?" The whole class put their hands up, even Ron, who had woken up when the class had all laughed. Ginny, however, suspected he hadn't got the faintest clue.

Ginny looked around the class, and was shocked. How could she be the only one?

"Ginny, you should of been taught that in your Sixth Year - why don't you know?"

"I had more important things to do in my Sixth Year, sir" Ginny answered, simply.

Kingsley raised an eyebrow, as he pressed further. "Like what?"

"Not getting killed" Ginny shrugged. The class was silent at this. It was not meant to be a joke, it was the truth. Kingsley merely nodded.

"Well, Ginny, I understand. You may stay behind after class, and I can go over last year's curriculum with you - "

Ginny shot to her feet, the highlighter rolling to the floor.

"What? Kingsley, you can't be serious?" she cried.

"Please let me finish, Ginny, and by the way, you call me Professor in lessons. What I was going to say was, you will stay behind, if you can't answer this question - without looking at your book, that's cheating."

Ginny sighed. "Shoot, _Professor_."

"How do you kill a Basilisk?"

The class immediatley fell silent, as they looked between Kingsley and Ginny, expecting Ginny to fire one of her infamous Bat-Bogey Hexes at him. Ginny glanced over to Harry, who looked both supportive, and sorry for her. _Are you okay?_ he mouthed to her, and she just nodded, winking at him.

"Funny. Real funny."


	11. Brothers

**A.N: Okay, so one more shot for you guys. One more tonight. Okay, maybe two more.**

Harry watched as Arthur Weasley repeatedly reversed into a wall, in an attempt to remove George Weasley from his back. Glancing up, Harry ducked, trying to not get hit in the face by the dangling feet of Ron Weasley, zooming around on a broom, yelling, because it had been set on fire. Getting to his knees, Harry spotted a growling Bill, and a helpless Charlie under the table, scrapping. Percy Weasley was curled up in the corner, rocking back and forth, his hands covering his ears, muttering to himself that it will all be over soon. Suddenly - and it was fortunate of Percy that he had his ears blocked - Molly Weasley came in, bashing two saucepans together, her face a portrait of horror, as she overlooked the chaos.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS GOING ON HERE?" she screeched, the saucepans now at her sides.

"Morning, love, Harry just came to ask for Ginny's hand in marriage, isn't that wonderful?" Arthur told his wife, beaming. George slid off his back, unconcious.

ONE HOUR EARLIER

Harry exhaled sharply, as he knocked on the door of The Burrow. Mr Weasley answered it, with a beam and enveloped him into a hug.

"Harry, my boy, you know you don't have to knock! You're practically a member of this family!" he laughed, opening the door wider, so that Harry could enter. He thanked him, and stepped foot inside.

"So, what's this about, Harry? You sounded bery urgent on the phone" Arthur asked, as he went to make a cup of tea. "Those things are great, aren't they? Phones - what a wonderful invention."

Harry nervously laughed. "Yes, yes they are." Taking a deep breath he continued. "So, there's something I'd like to ask you - "

"One second Harry - boys, do you want a cup of tea?" Arthur shouted, his voice echoing off the many walls in The Burrow. Harry felt as if someone had punched him, when all six of Ginny's brothers entered, pushing each other through the doorway. They all spotted Harry - no chance of escape now - and smiled, greeting him. Ron was last through, clutching his broom. Each of them were caked in mud, as if they had been rolling in the pigs pen.

"Hiya Harry, what are you doing here?" Ron asked, perking up.

"Is Ginny with you?" Ron asked, looking around.

"Of course she's not - she's got training today, you idiot" Charlie grinned, nudging Ron.

"Shut up Charlie" Ron replied, pushing his brother into the table.

"You chut up" Charlie said, pushing Ron into Percy, who yelped.

"Really, do you really have to fight like toddlers?" he commented, snidely.

" _Do you really have to fight like toddlers?_ " mimed George, perfectly.

"That's not funny" Percy whined.

"Loosen up, Perce" Bill joked, clapping a hand onto Percy's back.

"Boys, calm down!" Arthur exclaimed, holding up two cups of tea. "Harry has something important to tell us."

They all quietened, and curiously looked towards Harry, who was now feeling extremely nervous. All of them took a seat at the table, keeping their gaze on him.

"I mean, it can wait, I guess - "

"Nonsense, what is it my boy?"

Harry glanced at Arthur, then at Ron, than at his hands, which he was anxiously tapping on his leg.

"You see I . . . I just wanted to . . . I mean it doesn't . . . I need to . . . "

"Spit it out Harry" Bill laughed. That didn't help anything.

Harry had battled dragons, and Death Eaters, and a giant snake, and even Voldemort himself - yet nothing made him quite so flustered as this.

"I really, really love Ginny, like a lot, and I can't bare to live without her, and I just want to make her happy, so I was hoping that if I asked, and I'm very traditional like this, if I asked you first, that everything will be okay, and that you'll all be fine with it, and no one will beat me up for not asking first?" Harry spluttered, not pausing for breath one single time.

Only just understanding what he had said, the Weasley men all looked towards each other, eyebrows furrowed.

"Ask what?" Ron queried.

"AskifIcanhaveGinny'shandinmarriage?" Harry squeaked, rapidly and under his breath.

"I'm sorry what?" Arthur asked, cupping his hadn to his ear as if to prove a point.

"Ask if I can have . . . Ginny's hand in marriage?"

It was a deathly silence. It was uncomfortable to hear a house like The Burrow this quiet. The chimes on a Grandfather clock chimed in the living room, signalling it had hit the hour. That, and a faint screech of an owl in the forest, was all Harry could hear. And it was terrifying.

Harry looked towards Arthur, who's jaw was hanging open. Closing it, after a while, he swallowed, and took his hat from off his head.

"Harry, my boy, of course you can."

A wave of relief shot through him, which was soon trod on by the other Weasley's sat in the room.

"What? Dad, don't you think they're rushing into this a little fast?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, I mean, she's twenty years old. That's too young for her to be getting married" Charlie added.

"We've been dating for nearly six years now, we've hardly rushed into anything" Harry defended.

"Yeah, I agree with Harry" Bill nodded, taking Harry by surprise. "Fleur was twenty when we married."

"Yes, and mum was livid when you brought her home" Ron sighed. Bill did a double take.

"She was?"

"Well, yeah. She thought you two had gotten engaged too quickly too . . . " Ron trailed, realising his mistake too late. Bill clearly had no idea of how his mother had truly felt.

"I think that Ginny would be a fool to accept, seeing as she's doing well enough by herself . . . riding around on a broom . . . for money" Percy said, with an upturned nose.

"Oh shut up, Percy" George rolled his eyes. "Just because Audrey has turned you down four times."

"IT WAS ONE TIME, OKAY GEORGE?" Percy spat. "What about you and Angelina, huh? That time she got drunk and thought you were Fred when - "

"YOU BASTARD!" George cried.

Arthur, sensing what was about to happen, shot up from his chair and stood inbetween George and Percy - which helped nothing. George merely jumped up, and collided with his dad's back. He clung onto Arthur's back, cursing at Percy. Percy just edged his seat away from his brother, whilst Arthur tried to convince George to get down.

Suddenly, Harry's attention was caught by Bill arguing with Charlie and Ron. Ron was using his arms rather animatedly, waving his broom in Bill's face.

"Ginny is old enough to make up her own mind, and has been for a long time! None of you seem to realise that!" Bill roared, pushing the broom from out of his face.

"She may be old enough to make her own mind up, yes, but she's not old enough to get married yet!" Charlie yelled, standing on to his tiptoes to try and reach Bill's impressive height.

"But Fleur was twenty!"

"But Fleur had been in the Triwizard Tournament - she was well prepared for marriage!" Ron argued, waving his broom about.

"Do you realise how stupid that sounds? I love my wife, but Ginny has been through far worse! Did you forget that at _eleven_ she was possessed by Voldemort and brought down to the Chamber of Secrets, where a Basilisk was waiting for her?"

"Yes, but Harry defeated the Basilisk" Percy pointed out.

"SHUT UP PERCY!" came the combined voices of George, Bill, Charlie and Ron. Percy contorted his face into an expression of fear, as he rushed to hide in the corner.

"I'm just saying, I don't think that the same situation in which you and Fleur got married in doesn't apply here" Charlie sighed.

"What? Love?" Bill asked.

"No - the looming threat of war. There's no hurry now" Charlie added. It was an attempt to calm Bill down, instead it angered him more.

"That's not fair, Charlie - "

"But it's true, isn't it?"

"NO!"

Ron pushed his broom handle inbetween Bill and Charlie, and prized the two apart. He then stood in front of them both, looking even smaller than usual. He took a deep breath.

"I think Charlie's right" he spoke. "You and Fleur got married because you didn't know if either of you would survive the war, and you wanted to make sure your love was eternal, or some bullshit like that, right?"

"What the hell, no!"

"Okay" Ron sighed. "Was it because you got attacked by Greyback, and was afraid if you waited any longer she'd grow to hate your disgusting appearance? Or was it because Fleur is so incredibly out of your league that you were afraid that somebody else would snatch her up before you? I'm just trying to help - "

"HOW IS THIS HELPING AT ALL?"

Bill pushed Ron away, with more force than he intended to use, into the oven. Above, potatoes were boiling, on the stove. The bristles on Ron's broom caught alight, in the flame. He began to freak out, blowing at it with as much air as he could muster. Failing, he turned to screaming, trying to get someone to help him. However, Bill and Charlie had taken to wrestling on the floor, and had rolled under the table. The broom began to malfunction, and shot in the air, taking Ron with it.

Harry had frozen, standing up out of his seat, unsure of what to do to help.

Coming to two conclusions, he decided that they either really loved their sister, and just wanted to ensure her happiness, or they really hated Harry, with a burning passion. No pun intended.


	12. You Work Too Much

Edward Remus Lupin had always been told that his parents were these incredible people, talented Aurors, who had died fighting for what they believed in. He was proud of who his parents were, and what they did, even if _what_ they were was classed as unaccectable, or wrong. Werewolves are pretty amazing, and though he didn't know any, Bill Weasley was a _sort-of_ werewolf, and he was a great man. Teddy loved that he had inherited the same trait his mother had, being a Metamorphmagus. Somehow, he felt closer to her this way. It was an odd feeling.

He had found out a lot about Nymphadora from his grandmother. His grandfather had died before he was born, so his grandmother rarely taked about him, because it was still a sore subject for her to talk about. However, she felt as though she owed her only grandson, and told him stories about his mother growing up. She was rather like him; mischeivious, enthusiastic, and eager. Constantly finding herself in trouble, and unable to do as she was told - much like himself.

Teddy's grandmother loved him like a son, for as long as she was alive. Sadly, she didn't make it past his eigth birthday. So, Teddy went to live with his godfather, and the rest of the Potters. He rather liked Harry, as he told him stories about Remus, his father, and how his own father was friends with Teddy's. He explained to him that Sirius Black was Teddy's second cousin, and Harry's own godfather. Harry could tell him things about Remus that his grandmother couldn't, and this made him happy. Plus, Harry was a nice person, and kind to Teddy.

Harry's wife, Ginny, was a riot. She somehow always made Teddy laugh, and could cheer him up when he was sad. She reminded him of his own mother - from what people had told him about her. Ginny could tell him things about her too, and she said that was very close to her. Teddy did like living with the Potter's. When he had moved in with them, they had two of their own sons, James, and Albus. James was three, and Albus was a mere few months old. Teddy loved them as if they were his own brothers, and Ginny and Harry made him feel as if they were.

He grew to love them as if they were his own parents, and they loved him like he was their own. That's why, not long after Lily was born, when Teddy was ten, he couldn't stand to hear them argue all the time.

The top stair had grown to be his favourite, and least favourite spot in the house. Here, he could see out of the window, onto the streets of Godric's Hollow. When it was sunny, he watched people as they mowed their lawns, and chased the gnomes that popped out of said lawns. Then, when it was snowing, it would sit and watch the snowflakes fall, and wonder what it would be like to be a snowflake.

However, when Harry and Ginny fought, this was were he would sit, so he could listen. He didn't like it when they fought, but he couldn't help but drop an Extendable Ear down, and eavesdrop. Curiosity was what it was.

On this occasion, five year old James came and sat next to him. His messy, inky hair stuck out in all directions, and his bright brown eyes looked in to Teddy's, with such a wise and knowing gleam. Reaching out, he put his hand on Teddy's, and patted.

"It will be okay" he whispered, in that innocently loud way only toddlers who have yet to learn the point of whispering is to be _quiet_.

Teddy mouthed a _thank you_ , and motioned to the Extendable Ear, silently asking if he wanted to listen in too. James nodded.

Downstairs, Harry was packing his breifcase, struggling to find all his essentials. You see, two year old Albus's favourite game was to play _'hide daddy's things so he can stay home longer'_. It wasn't Harry's favourite. Cursing under his breath, he lifted cushions up off the sofa, and threw them back down.

"Harry, it wasn't Alby's fault, okay" Ginny tried, clutching the giggling toddler in her arms, balancing him on her hip.

"That look on his face says otherwise" Harry mumbled, as he wrinkled his nose up at a crumpled piece of tissue he found covering his wand.

"Merlin's beard, Harry, he's two years old!" Ginny exclaimed, furrowing her eyebrows.

"Yes, well, you need to keep a better eye on him! If we just let him roam about her, chewing on and playing with whatever he wants, then - "

"Keep a better eye on him? Harry, whilst you're at work all day, I'm at home, looking after four children! Okay, and one one of them is a baby! They all need my attention!"

"So what are you saying? That I'm not home enough, is that it?"

"Yes, yes I am! Did you know that James made the milk float out of his beaker today? And Lily laughed at least three times! Albus, he pointed to a picture of my family photograph, and said 'Uncle Fred'."

Harry swallowed, and turned round to look at his wife. It surprised him a little, what he saw. Sometimes he has moments when he thinks Ginny is still the seventeen year old girl with a free spirit and determination and passion that he fell in love with. Now, looking at her, she is a twenty-seven year old mum of three, you could say four. She was still beautiful, and he sometimes didn't appreciate that enough. Her hair was shorter now, as it stopped just below her shoulders. It was still as vibrant as ever, though. And she didn't look much older, just somehow more elegant. Elegant - an odd word to describe someone dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans and a loose burgundy top, but that's what she was.

Harry sighed.

"I can't help the hours that I work - " he began, but the look on Ginny's face told him that she didn't believe a word he was saying.

"Bullshit. Hermione told me that Ron is out the house by ten o'clock, and home by five in the afternoon. You're out the house by seven, and come home at seven. Then, most days now, you're out again by nine! I called the Ministry - "

"You did what?"

"I called the Ministry! And Bill answered. He told me that you've been asking to put these hours in! He assumed that we were tight for money, and offered me some! Do you know embarrassed I felt! We are not tight for money Harry, far from it!"

Harry saw the hurt expression on Ginny's face, and looked down at his feet. He gritted his teeth, and resumed to packing his briefcase, thinking it best if he leave the house as soon as he could.

Ginny leant over the sofa, and shut the briefcase. She had a blazing look in her eye.

"How dare you try and leave!" she told him. In her arms, Albus had started to cry. Kissing him on the cheek, Ginny bounced him up and down.

"He's crying, because he knows you're walking out on us" Ginny told him, bitterly.

Harry scoffed. "He's a baby, Ginny, for God's sake. And I'm hardly walking out on you."

"Teddy called me mum today. He called me mum, and asked where dad was."

She was holding in tears now, the blazing look in her eye extinguishing.

"We're not his parents, Ginny" Harry muttered. "His parents are dead."

Suddenly, with her free hand, slapped Harry sharply across his face. She didn't look like she regretted it, either.

"You disgust me."

Harry, unlike his wife, regretted what he had said, and immediatley wished he could take it back.

"Ginny, I didn't - "

"Do you know what else Hermione told me? She said the Minister for Magic got a new secretary, and I bet you know exactly who she is."

He did. It was Cho Chang. She was the reason he couldn't look his wife, or his children, in the eyes. Harry guessed that his reaction betrayed him, and Ginny registered this.

"No" she gasped, pools of tears gathering in her eyes. "No."

"It's not what you think, love, I promise - "

"Oh my God. Holy shit. You're sleeping with her, aren't you?" she cried, tears now streaming down her face. She set Albus down in his crib, and wiped her face. Harry tried to comfort her, but she batted his hands away.

"Don't you touch me!" she yelled at him, covering her mouth and holding out a hand in his direction. She edged away from him, retreating into herself.

"Ginny, please - " Harry tried, desperate to explain himself.

"Get away from me" she whispered to him, her voice trembling.

"No, please don't - "

"I said get away!" she told him, pushing him away. He kept coming back, however, and this made her more distressed. She beat her hands against his chest, sobbing.

"Please, get out!" she shouted, trying to shove him towards the door. However, Harry was much stronger than she was.

"Ginny, let's talk - "

"I don't want to even look at you, let alone talk!" Ginny cried, pushing him into the hallway.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps bounding down the stairs interrupted them. It was James, swiftly followed by Teddy. They both looked bewildered.

"Daddy!" James exclaimed, as he caught sight of his father, who had been at work all day. He tried to run towards him, but Ginny knelt down and stopped him.

"Daddy's just leaving" Ginny told James, softly. "He's got to go to work, remember?"

"You work too much, daddy" James sighed, as he clung to his mother's leg.

Harry felt devastated, looking between his son and the love of his life. Ginny was still crying, and James's sad expression was heartbreaking.

Teddy tugged on Ginny's sleeve, so she bent down to be face to face with him.

"Is this my fault, Ginny? For calling you mum? Because it won't happen again, I promise" he told her, with an earnest tone. This merely made Ginny sob harder, and Harry feel even worse.

"No, Teddy, it's not your fault" Ginny told him, stroking his cheek, softly. "And I don't want you to call me Ginny ever again, okay?"

Teddy beamed, and wrapped his arms around her neck. "Can I tell you I love you too?" he asked, into her shoulder. A tear fell from Ginny's eye, as she smiled back. "Of course you can. Because I love you too."

Ginny then stood up, holding James against her hip, and holding Teddy's hand. She looked at Harry with a seriousness he rarely saw in her.

"I think you should go, now" she told him. "And find somewhere else to sleep tonight. We can talk in the morning."

Harry just nodded, closing his eyes. He opened the door, and took one last glance back at his wife. She was struggling to not breakdown, he could see that. And that was probably what hurt him most.

Closing the door as he stepped outside, he thought about how that conversation could of gone. He could of told her that he and Cho had never slept together, only sharing a single kiss a few weeks before. It was when everybody else had gone home, and Cho approached him in his office. She stole the kiss from his lips, and if he had realised what was happening straight away, he could of pushed her off without hesitation. However, he didn't, and they had stayed in that position - Cho, her hands on Harry's face, lips ferociously on his, Harry, his hands limp by his sides, frozen - for a good few seconds. When Harry had come around, he pushed Cho off him. She told him she still had feelings for him, and he told her he was in love with his wife. He tried his best to ignore her after that, but was ashamed of what hat happened, and couldn't bring himself to tell his wife. That's why he spent so long at work, a stupid desicion, he knows.

Harry was feeling so horrible and guilty, that he didn't even realise his cheek was numb.


	13. Everything Will Be Okay

**A.N: This quote belongs to Ed Sheeran, and I think it's so fantastic. Like I said, I've been listening to too much Ed Sheeran lately.**

It hurt to walk away from the people he loved, it really did. It felt like he was jumping off a cliff; because there was this horrible sensation in his gut, and he was stuck in limbo, waiting to hit the ground.

Harry moved throughout the castle, swiftly and silently. Every time he would trip over a dead body, every time he stood in a splatter of blood, he forced himself to carry on, telling himself that what he was doing would prevent more of this bloodshed.

Ironic really. Voldemort promised he would cease the murdering, if he could just murder Harry. Either he had a very good sense of humour, or he hadn't realised.

The crestfallen expression on Hermione's face when he had said his goodbye had felt like a punch to the gut. And when Ron gave him a nod of the head, and bit back the tears, Harry couldn't remember the last time he had felt so guilty.

That's all he had been doing, Harry thought bitterly. _Feeling._ Why couldn't he just accept the fact that this was his duty, what Dumbledore wanted him to do? Defeat the Dark Lord. This was what he was destined for ever since that night his parents died. They died, so he could live. That's what Harry was doing now. He's dying, so his friends, and the people he loved most, could live.

Finally, he could feel the ground coming up to greet him, until he spotted two figures, alone, on the steps. Harry froze, dead in tracks, and took a sharp intake of breath.

A dark-skinned girl was sat on the bottom stair, crying her eyes out. She was dressed in tattered Hufflepuff robes, a huge gash up her leg. It looked really nasty, seeping blood at an alarming rate. She must only have been a first year - why wasn't she with the other?

But then, it was who she was with _now_ that made Harry stop, and question ever jumping off the cliff at all. The girl who he hadn't said goodbye, the girl he hadn't told he was leaving. Ginny Weasley.

Her blue jeans had scuff marks where her knees were, and her blue hoodie had countless stains decorating it - ash, blood, mud. Her fiery long hair was darker than he remembered, and her bright brown eyes lighter. She was pale too, which made the open cuts on her cheek and her chin look even more worse. She had countless scrapes on her hands too, which she used to tuck the girls hair behind her ear.

Harry's breath caught in his throat when she began talking, and he immediatley felt like he was drowning. This was the girl he . . . he loved. He loved her, and he hadn't ever once told her. He was going to die, and she didn't know how he felt about her. As soul-crushing as it was, Harry resisted from taking the cloak off and running too her - however strong the urge was.

Instead, he listened.

"Amelia, everything will be okay" Ginny muttered, wiping tears from the girl stained cheeks.

"I'm a Muggle-Born . . . what will happen if . . . if . . . " the girl stuttered, her voice trembling.

Ginny wrapped an arm around her, bringing her as close to her body as she could. She rubbed the girl's back, comfortingly.

"I promise that it won't ever come to that" she told the girl, in a determined voice.

"But what if it does?" the girl breathed, scared.

"If it does, then I will protect you. I will make sure no harm comes to you" Ginny promised.

How was it, surrounded by rubble and desctruction, Ginny could be so brave, and so honest, Harry thought to himself. And the fact that this girl - a girl she probably had never even met before today - believed Ginny, and trusted her, was marvellous. Amelia clutched onto Ginny, and cried. Ginny simply hugged her back, and told her that she would look after her.

"I lost my brother today" Ginny whispered, to the girl. "He was this amazingly optimistic person, who could always make me smile. There wasn't anyone who met him, besides maybe a few of the teachers, who didn't like him."

"Fred" the girl chirped up, smiling. "My brother was best friends with him and George."

 _Lee Jordan's little sister._

"Yes, Fred. He was loved by my whole family, by his friends, by the people at this school. We still . . . I still love him, although he's not here now. But I have him my memories, and he's never going to leave them. And I still remember this thing he said to me, when I was in my first year. I was sat in a hospital bed in Madam Pomfrey's, and he smiled, and held my hand. He told me that 'everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end'. And that's what I'm telling you, in your first year, sat here on the steps, now. Promise me you won't forget that?"

"I promise" the girl nodded.

Harry closed his eyes, and he prayed that he would always stay in her memories. Silently promising Ginny that he won't ever forget what she said either.


	14. Pub Fights

**A.N: Oh my god guys, I'm so overwhelmed by all the love for this story, it's incredible. Thank you to everyone who is following, favouriting, reviewing and simply, reading! If I've made you laugh, cry, smile or angrily throw your phone at a wall, then I've done my job. Love every single one of you. And this chapter is dedicated to an amazing author, pottermum, who wrote a one-shot quite similar to this. She is lovely, and writes bloody brilliant stories.**

 **P.S: Anyone reading this from England? Specifically, the West Midlands?**

 **P.P.S: Seeing as Charlie never got an actual actor to play him, so imagine (see now I'm really, really,** _ **extremely**_ **tempted to say Ed Sheeran) Simon Woods, from Pride & Prejudice.**

Harry Potter, the boy who famous for cheating death, defeating the Dark Lord and saving the world countless times, was a _bloody lightweight_.

Five pints of Butterbeer, and one single Daisyroot Draught, and he was hammered. Singing at the top of his lungs, and rather out of tune, he swayed side to side on his stool. Oliver Wood, a wizard of twenty-seven, and ruggedly handsome, with short, dark hair and a heavily-stubbled beard, was tasked with keeping the Groom from landing on his face. After Harry's third slip, Oliver sighed, and took a large gulp from his Dragon Barrel Brandy.

"So, I hope this _Ginny_ isn't anything like her brother, Percy" Oliver told Harry, having to raise his voice over the roar of the all-male customers in the The Three Broomsticks. "He was in my year, and a right tosser." Harry shook his head ferociously, his glasses nearly sliding off his head.

"No, no, no" he hiccupped. "Not like Percy."

Oliver waited, expecting to hear more from his former team-mate, however got nothing.

"I've seen her in the Daily Prophet - she's quite a looker!" Oliver tried again, shouting over the voices.

"You talking about Ginny?" Seamus asked, stumbling over. Placing an arm around Harry, and drunkenly placed a sloppy kiss on his friend's cheek. "Yeah, Harry's bagged himself a real head-turner there."

"Who, Ginny? Yeah, she's a stunner" Dean added, popping up behind Oliver, making him jump. "Wish I'd locked that down sooner to be honest."

"Oi, that's my wife . . . to be!" Harry yelled, half-falling, half-leaping off his wooden stool. He stormed up to Dean, and immediatley regretted it. Dean was a good thirty centimeters taller than he was, as Harry was merely eye level with his shoulders.

Dean laughed, and patted Harry's shoulder. "Sorry, mate." Then he left with Seamus to fill up their now empty pint glasses. Harry was about to follow him, and demand to know what he meant, but he felt a hand pull him back.

"No, you don't" Bill sighed, setting Harry on a stool beside him, and Charlie. Both of them could hold their liquer, so weren't completely drunk, unlike George and Ron, who both had downed enough to knock out a raging elephant.

"We're not letting you stand up on that altar and marry our sister, with a black eye her ex-boyfriend gave you" Charlie told Harry, with a grave tone to his husky voice. Then, he chuckled, taking a swig from his pint glass. "Because both know a bloke like that would pummel you."

Bill laughed too, and Harry frowned, looking between the two. He seemed appalled that they didn't think he could take Dean in a fight - however true it was.

"I could beat - hiccup! - Dean in a - hiccup! - fight!" he said, furiously. He was adamant that they believed him, but they couldn't take him seriously. Not whilst he was hiccupping. They were laughing into their beers, struggling to hide their amusement. Harry scowled, and got off the chair, falling into a rather anxious Colin Creevey, who squealed and jumped backwards. This only caused more laughter from Bill and Charlie.

Ron and George appeared behind Harry, and snaked their arms around his shoulders, their free hands clutching brandy bottles. They tried to get Harry to join in their _awful_ rendition of the Hogwarts school song.

"Ron, you think that I could - hiccup! - I could - hiccup! - I could - hiccup! - " Harry tried.

"Do you think Harry could take Dean in a fight?" Bill sighed.

This was met with hysterical laughter from Ron and George, spilling their alcohol onto Harry's shoes. Clapping him on the back, Ron wiped the tears from his eyes.

"That's too funny" he laughed. "Harry and Dean . . . . hahahaha!"

Shaking free of their grip, Harry stood in front of them all, angry at their reactions.

"I could take - hiccup! - Dean!" he told them, stomping his foot on the ground. "I could - hiccup! - beat him! Any time, anywhere!"

He felt himself back up into a wall - or at least he thought it was a wall. Turning around, slowly, he came face to face with Dean, who had a bemused expression on his face.

"Really?"

Even the dishevelled barman at the other end of the pub could hear Harry gulp. The room had gone silent, and somehow news had broke out that Harry Potter, Auror, could take on Dean Thomas, Chaser for Tutshill Tornados, in a fist fight. And someone (*cough cough* Seamus) had gone around collecting bets from people. The odds were even, swaying in both Harry's favour - despite the lack of support from the Weasley's - and in Dean's.

"Dean, my bestest buddy, old - hiccup! - pal!" Harry cried, smoothening his friend's jumper out, hoping that he could perhaps worm himself out of a possible fight. "You know that I - hiccup! - value our friendship, right? And that I - hiccup! - wouldn't want - hiccup! - to ruin that!"

Dean furrowed his eyebrows, the countless pints making him unsure of what exactly was happening. Harry noticed, and got Dean to come closer, so he could whisper something to him that no one else would be able to here.

"Listen, I don't - hiccup! - want to fight you, not - hiccup! - on my stag do" he muttered, the incessant hiccuping causing Dean to whince, and rub his ear. "But they all do, so - hiccup! - why don't we - hiccup! - pretend to - hiccup! - fight, and that way - hiccup! - everybody wins!"

The taller boy still wasn't all that clear of what Harry was trying to say, so pressed on.

"I mean, Ginny, is your ex-girlfriend - hiccup! - and my fiance. If you let me win - hiccup! - then she'll think I'm some - hiccup! - amazing guy and - "

"But how does that benefit _me_?" Dean spluttered out, unable to stand still, the alcohol making him light-headed. Harry didn't understand why it had to benefit Dean.

" _It's my stag do_ " Harry told him, as if that was reason enough for him getting his way.

The crowd were getting restless now, Seamus leading them in a chorus of "FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!"

"Will you - hiccup! - hold on a second?" Harry asked, holding his hand out to the crowd, grimancing. All this shouting was giving him a headache.

"Come on!" echoed from either Charlie, or Bill.

"Get on with it!" Oliver boomed.

"Smash his face in, Dean!" cried a voice that sounded remarkably like Percy Weasley.

"If you too don't fight, no one wins the prize!" Ron shouted at them, with an oddly happy expression.

Dean and Harry glanced at each other, than over at Ron. "What prize?"

"Our sister!" George answered, which earned many cheers and whistles throughout The Three Broomsticks.

Chuckling, Harry turned to Dean, and leant forwards. "You know, I've already - hiccup! won her, right? I mean, I am - hiccup! - marrying her. I'm taking her to - hiccup! - Hawaii for our - hiccup! - honeymoon."

"Honeymoon? Hawaii? Brilliant Harry!" Seamus cried, clicking his fingers together as if he had a good plan. "Winner gets to take Ginny to Hawaii!"

It seems the only one opposed to the idea, was Harry. George and Ron had found two peanut bowls each, and were using them as _'a coconut bra'_ , whilst Bill and Charlie continued to laugh at Harry's reaction. He started wonder if there was something else in their pints.

Everyone else had begun cheering again, and Harry decided that he was going to have to fight Dean, to prove a point; _that Ginny was his_.

Ron then ran up to Harry and Dean, with a very solemn look on his face, that he could almost have been taken seriously, if he wasn't now wearing the peanut bowl, _on his head_.

"But just because we've given you permission to take Ginny on this honeymoon, doesn't mean you get to try any funny business, alright?" he asked, his hand very awkwardly on their faces. Harry noticed that Ron had been directing this question more towards Dean, and he was offended.

"Excuse me Ron, but - hiccup! - if anyone is to see - hiccup! - Ginny naked, it will be - hiccup! - me!"

Ron narrowed his eyes, and stared at Harry, intently. Then he began to laugh, and clapped Harry on the back again, roughly, and handed him the bowl, before walking away. Harry, clutching onto this bowl with mild confusion, then turned to Dean.

"Did you - hiccup! - understand what I said?" he asked. "Only I get to - hiccup! - see her - hiccup! - naked." That statement would have sounded far more threatening, if he hadn't of been hiccuping the whole way through.

"That's a shame" Dean sighed. "Because, from what I remember, she looked incredibly sexy naked."

Dean could hardly utter another word after that, as Harry had launched himself at him, throwing blind punches. Dean tried to get him off, but Harry was determined.

Meanwhile, in a bathroom stall at the back of the pub, Neville stood, clutching a phone to his ear.

"Ginny? Yes, it's Neville. You need to get here as soon as you can - something has happened."

FIVE MINUTES LATER

Ginny burst in through the doors to The Three Broomsticks. The drunken crowd were astounded at the mere sight of a female, let alone one who had such a blazened look in her eye. They parted for her, and she found herself pulling Dean off of her fiance, who was using his peanut bowl as a shield.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" she demanded, gazing around at the array of broken tables and shattered glass.

"Dean won!" Seamus cried, hi-fiving his friend, as the crowd erupted into cheers.

"Aloha, Ginny" Dean said, winking at Ginny, who still had her hand clutched around his bicep, which she couldn't stop staring at.

"Piss of and sober up" she finally told him, when he began to flex, drunkenly. Turning to Harry, she offered a hand to him, and helped him up. He looked both embarrassed, and in awe, both at the same time.

"I didn't agree to anything - hiccup! - but Dean gets to - hiccup! take you to Hawaii and - hiccup! - I want to take you - hiccup! - to Hawaii, and he said he - hiccup! - saw you naked and - "

Ginny kissed her drunk fiance's cheek, and looped her arm through his, so she could steady him, and lead him out of the pub. There, they trekked down a path, the evening air still a little humid.

"I love you, Ginny, I always have" he muttered.

"I know, love, we're getting married tomorrow" Ginny sighed.

"Dean isn't taking you to Hawaii - hiccup! - I won't let him."

"That's sweet dear."

"He said he saw you - hiccup! - naked."

"You're completely hammered, and won't remember any of this so fuck it. Yes, Harry, in my fifth year, me and Dean hooked up in Trelawney's classroom during a free period."

"What?"

"I'm sorry."

"I had lessons in there when I was a kid."

"Harry, why are you holding a wooden bowl?"

"It was Ron's coconut bra, but he gave it to me to use against Dean."

"Uh huh."

"Are we home yet?"

"Nearly, love. I've just got to get you to stop moving around so we can disapparate."

"Snape fancied my mum - hiccup! - how weird is that?"

"Incredibly."

" . . . "

"Try and not throw up anymore until we get home, please."

" . . . "

"Or not. That's fine."

"I love you Ginny."

"Oh my God, when we get home you are drinking a whole bottle of mouthwash. Jesus, it's like something died in your mouth."

"I died - twice. Shh, don't tell Voldemort."


	15. OWL's

**A.N: Sorry for the long wait between these chapters, I've been hauled up in my room watching 'How To Get Away With Murder' for the past couple of days, and oh my God is it amazing. Not only is Alfie Enoch a.k.a Dean Thomas a main character, but another one of my favourites, Katie Findlay, who starred alongside Bonnie Wright a.k.a Ginny Weasley, in one of my favourite films After The Dark, is also a main character. It's so, so, so good, and I cannot wait for Season 2. It's a new obsession of mine and I'm head over heels for it. I can't believe how much Alfie has changed, and how gorgeous he now is, and I must admit it's inspired me to write Dean into more chapters. Sorry not sorry.**

Compared to his parents when they were taking their O.W.L's, James Potter had it easy. His father had been caught in a tug of war between Voldemort, and the Ministry. His mother found herself in the midst of a war, when she took hers. So for fifteen year old James to be sat at the table, complaining about how much revision he's expected to do, and how the teachers are putting too much pressure on him to his parents, was almost laughable.

"And did you know, if I'm going to be an Auror, I have to take potions?" James grumbled, through a mouthful of potatoes.

"Yes, well, I am an Auror" Harry sighed, as he looked over at his wife, who had to bite her lip to keep herself from giggling at her son.

"But I don't want to take Professor Slughorn's class!" James added, as he washed down his food with a swig of water. "All he does is talk about how great you two are, and tell me that he _'knows I'll do great things if I just believe'_."

Lily couldn't help but laugh at his last statement, choking slightly. Albus thumped his sister's back, grinning.

"You? Doing great things?" he smirked. "As if burping the alphabet can be considered _great things_."

"Albus, your brother is capable of doing anything he wants, so don't put him down" Ginny told him, pointing her fork at him. "And James, sweetie, Professor Slughorn has a very good point. Me and your father are extraordinarily great."

Harry, Lily and Albus all laughed, whilst James merely frowned. He set his cutlery down, and pushed the plate away from him, crossing his arms.

"All this talk about O.W.L's has made me lose my appetite" he muttered. He still had half a chicken breast left, and all of his broccoli.

The table fell into silence, the rest of them enoying their dinner, as was made known by their 'mmm's', for lack of a better word. James almost broke a few times, but held strong, determined to make a point.

As they began to scrape the last morsels of food off their plates, and began to pack away, James heard his stomach growl. Coughing fiercely, he tried to conceal his obvious hunger. Ginny merely raised an eyebrow at him.

Harry leant over, and was about to take his plate from him, when James snapped, and pulled the plate closer, tucking in. His father grinned, and sat back down, across the table from him. Ginny winked at her husband, and took a seat next to her son.

"Listen, I know all this revision, and work seems like a lot, but it truly does pay off in the long run" Harry assured his son, watching as he took greedy bites of his chicken. "I mean, look at me. I didn't think I'd live to take my O.W.L's, but I did, with perhaps the least amount of preparation than anybody, and now I'm an Auror!"

Glancing up, with furrowed eyebrows, James turne to his father.

"So, what you're saying is you didn't revise, at all, and you still became an Auror?"

Realising where he had slipped up, Harry tried to correct himself.

"Yes, but that's not the point" he tried, looking over at Ginny for help. She merely shrugged.

"Don't look at me, love, I didn't revise either."

"Wait, you didn't revise, and you still went on to play for the most successful Quidditch teams ever, and became a journalist for the Daily Prophet?"

"Pretty mu - "

"No, that's not what she's saying" Harry interrupted, sternly.

"No, it is" Ginny corrected, nodding. James's eyes lit up, finally finding a loophole.

However, Ginny still wanted to be a good mother, and a role model for her son, so she found another way to convince him to study.

"But, you're father could kill dark wizards before he could walk - have you killed any dark wizards, James?" she inquired.

James shook his head. "Mum, I'm fifteen."

"Exactly. When you're dad was eleven, he fought his way to the Philospher's Stone, and defeated Voldemort for the second time. When he was twelve, he battled Tom Riddle and a basilisk to rescue me from the Chamber of Secrets. When he was thirteen he defeated a whole horde of dementors. When he was fourteen, he competed in the Triwizard Tournament, and faced dragons, merpeople, and again, Voldemort and his Death Eaters. When he was fifteen, he, myself, your Uncle Ron, your Aunt Hermione, Neville and Luna all batted the Death Eaters in the Ministry, where your dad battled Voldemort, for like the gazillionth time. That's why he didn't need to revise. What's your excuse?"

In that moment, Harry looked over at his wife and felt nothing but pride and love. He was astounded, that after twenty-one years together she hadn't tired of telling people stories about their childhood, and the amazing things they had been through. And the fact that she could recite all of his conquests without pausing for a _second_ was marvellous.

James, however, just blinked. When his mum had put it like _that_ he stopped to think about what he had actually done. He was Gryffindor Seeker, and was dating a really funny girl in his year called Ophelia, so there was two things he could say he was proud of. But he hadn't vanquished anything, or defeated anyone, like his parents had. Like his dad, the Auror.

Huffing, he just shook his head. "You're right, mum."

Smiling, Ginny winked at her husband - something she had been doing since their were at Hogwarts together, and something that never ceased to make Harry's insides feel all warm and jittery - and planted a kiss on her son's head.

"Dad, you must have done well in O.W.L's though" James quieried, as he took his now empty plate and dropped it into the sink.

"Top of my class for Defense Against the Dark Arts" he father called through. "But my other subjects weren't so great. Mostly E's, a D, and one P."

"That's not bad for someone who didn't revise" James pointed out, estutely.

"I revised a little" Harry admitted. "Your Aunt Hermione, she can be quite scary when she wants to be."

Ginny laughed. "You're telling me!" As James came back in the room, he sat back down, and listened to his parent's tales.

"When I was taking my O.W.L's, I'd began dating your dad. I was . . . distracted, to say the least. And I never liked studying to begin with. So, I was planning to wing the exams, getting by with the knowledge I already had. Aunt Hermione however, well, she'd frequently tell us off. Once she threatened to turn your dad's hands into those of a chicken's, if he didn't keep them off me."

"Aunt Hermione said that! Cool!" Albus exclaimed, from where he was sat on the sofa. Then he grimanced, realizing. "Gross."

"But, how did you do? I mean, I suppose you did alright too."

"On the contrary - I got mostly A's, an E in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but I got a T in both Divination and History of Magic."

This seemed to stun all those in the room.

"A T? As in T for Troll? That exists?" Lily chirped up. Her mother nodded.

"So, you didn't do all that well, and you still became a famous Quidditch player, and then a journalist?"

"Yes, sweetie. I mean, you don't need a poxy O in Herbology if you want to be a Quidditch player" Ginny laughed.

James nodded, a mischeivious gleam in his eye that reminded his father far too much of the same look Fred, George and Ginny all would have before anyone of their practical jokes. Narrowing his eyes, he pointed a finger at his son.

"So, you promise to revise then?" Harry asked, sternly.

James scoffed. "You're joking, right? I'm going to be a Quidditch player - screw school."


	16. Alone

**A.N: So this chapter is centered mainly around Dean and Ginny, but is still Hinny based, if that makes sense. I feel a little cheeky slipping this in, but I've had it written for a while now, and I've been debating what to do with it. I think it's sweet, but I could get mixed emotions. If you're not a fan of Dean and Ginny, then I suggest skipping this chapter, however I'd read on, because you never know what could happen. If you need motivation to continue, I suggest Googling 'Alfred Enoch', and then reconsider. You know you want to.**

Wine stained lips. That's what he first noticed. Her once peachy lips, peachy lips he had once kissed in secluded corners, now smudged an alarming crimson colour. This only made her face seem paler.

Dean preferred to say wine-stained, than blood-stained.

Tears peppered her eyelashes, her hazel eyes fixated on the view outside the Astronomy Tower, which was disfigured by the haunting outlines of dementors, scattering the skylines. Trembling fingers gripped onto a piece of blotchy parchment, knuckles white, splattered blue, a scarlett substance collected under the fingernails. In a world of her own, she flinched when Dean's shadow cast over her, unaware he was there. Auburn hair flying, she snapped her head round, only to find her friend gazing at her, with a look of pity evident on his face.

Ginny admitted that she was relieved it was only him, but some part of her wanted to be alone, left to dwell on her thoughts, undisturbed, however disturbing her thoughts were.

Sliding to the left, she made room for her new companion, patting the cold stone. Without hesitation, Dean took the seat. Immediatley his body heat radiated off onto her, and gave her some comfort. She was numb, for all the wrong reasons. Sensing this, Dean draped his moss coloured jacket over her shoulders, the furry hood tickling her neck. Flashing him a wavering smile, she whispered her thanks.

Moonlight highlighted the left side of her face, as she turned to look at him. Her eyes were unable to meet his, fluttering as she stared intently at her hands. Dean placed his fingers under her jaw, tentatively lifting her head, and trailed his thumb along a purple bruise that decorated her cheek. Whincing, she drew a sharp breath. Gritting his teeth, his eyes roaming over her bust lip, and bruised knuckles.

"Who did this, Ginny?" he asked, softly. His chocolate eyes stared steadily into her own, determined for answers. Ginny merely looked away, as a tear slipped down her face. Wiping it away roughly, she chewed on her nails, exhaling heavily. Desperate to help, he carefully laced his fingers through her own, drawing in her attention.

"Please, let me help you, Ginny" he begged, frantically searching her face for hints. The injuries had been inflicted by hand, which meant that this person had relished in hurting her. Anger coursed through Dean's body. "Who hit you?"

Choking back sobs, Ginny swallowed, and held up the piece of parchment. Ink had been smudged across the page, and tear stains only made the sluggish writing even more incomprehendable.

"I got a letter from Tonks this morning" she began, her voice shaky. "Apparently, Death Eaters have been bragging to anyone and everyone about finding Harry in the Yorkshire Dales. That bastard Thorfinn Rowle let slip that they'd murdered Harry on the spot, along with 'that red-headed and foul-mouthed blood traitor and the filthy, know-it-all mudblood'."

Feeling his stomach drop, Dean tried to not let the disappointment apparant on his face.

"The Death Eaters are growing desperate, of course they're going to be throwing rumours around left, right and centre" he assured her, despite knowing his efforts were fruitless.

"Why would Tonks tell me about it then?" Ginny sighed, her expression so crestfallen, it broke Dean's heart.

"I think she was trying to warn you, give you a heads-up for when the news leaks throughout school" he explained.

Simply nodding, Ginny tried her best to believe in his words. Tried her best to believe that out there, her brother, best friend and love of her life, were safe.

"It seems impossible" she breathed. "That Harry could be dead. I thought he'd live forever, after everything he's been through. That after seventeen years, Voldemort could of just won."

It did seem impossible. Impossible, because never once had Dean allowed himself to wonder what would have happened if Harry had died as a baby, or in his first year, or in his second etc. But it was happening. They'd gone nearly four months without his prescence at school, and it was deafening. Everybody was aware of it, feeling his abscence as sharply as a cut. For some, the pain had lessened, for others, like Ginny, the pain was unbearable. And it was hurting Dean to see her like this, everyday. Gallantly, she carried on, putting on a brave face. Dumbledore's Army was what many had stayed for, because of her. It was beyond admirable.

Contorting her face into that of someone in pain, she gave up and sobbed. "I miss him so much, that it hurts. It physically hurts me. I think about him, laying in a ditch somewhere, and I ache all over" she confided in him, as he wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders and drew her in close. "I'm so scared, Dean. I don't know what to do."

Feeling his heartstrings tug a little, he gulped.

"You love him, and that's okay to admit. He loves you too. And how you're feeling now, is okay too" Dean told her. "You don't need to do anything, but breathe. Breathe, and remember the good things. Don't dwell on what could be, think about things that make you smile. Because that's how you're going to get through this. You're the stongest person I know, and if anyone is going to survive this, it's you."

Breaking free from his hold, she nodded, her sobs subsiding.

"I have confidence that Harry's alive, and whatever he's doing out there, he's doing it for all our sake's. To save us all" Dean admitted. "And that there is no way on this earth that he would leave us to fend for ourselves. He's too damn noble for that."

Despite herself, Ginny couldn't stifle her giggle. Music to Dean's ears, he smiled. Looking up at him, for he was quite a few inches taller, she found herself drowning in his eyes, his musky scent enveloping him.

Snapping herself back, she mentally slapped herself. _What was she thinking?_ Harry was out there, fighting for them, if he was out there at all. She couldn't allow herself to even consider Dean, whilst still harbouring feelings for Harry.

Suddenly, as Dean graciously handed Ginny a pale blue handkerchief, so that she could tend to her lip, she realized; Harry had broke it off with her. Telling her it was because he feared what would happen to them both if Voldemort found out about them. Mourning and grieving his abscense the past few months couldn't have made it more obvious how she felt about Harry, and that wasn't going to do her any good. She needed to move on.

"You're nice to me, Dean" Ginny muttered, softly, as she dabbed blindly at her lip. "Really nice. You're a good friend."

Gently taking the handkerchief from her hand, his touch sending shivers up Ginny's spine, he cleaned the blood off her lip for her. Half-heartedly smiling, he sighed "That's me, _your friend_."

The flat tone in his voice and disappointed expression made it clear to Ginny that Dean wasn't happy, being just her friend. And for some reason, this caused butterflies to flutter around in her stomach.

Running his tongue along his lips, Dean smiled, bringing the handkerchief down from her face. "There" he breathed. "Beautiful."

Breath hitching in her throat, Ginny watched as Dean slowly brought his hand to her face, and tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear. "You're beautiful."

With those words, Dean leant forward and kissed Ginny passionately, his hands cupping her face, gripping it almost, however cautious of her bruises. Placing her hands on his chest, she reciprocated the kiss, almost hungrily.

Suddenly she pulled away, their foreheads touching, eyes still closed.

"We shouldn't do this" she muttered, breathing heavily.

"You're right" Dean replied, his bare hands still on her cheeks.

In those spare few seconds, Ginny had enough time to decide that she wanted to be happy, and kissing Dean, it made her happier than she had been in months.

"Or maybe I'm wrong" she said, and kissed him, dropping the letter to the floor.


	17. Professor Potter

**A.N: Sorry for not updating sooner, a lot of stuff has just happened. Firstly, my laptop wouldn't let me onto , for about three days. Then, I found out that after only a year of living here, my mum has gotten promoted, which is great and all, except it means moving to the other side of the country. So, I'm going to try and update as much as I can, through the move and all. Thank you for putting up with me, you guys are amazing.**

 **P.S: I know on my last chapter I got mixed emotions, and I'm grateful to everyone for all the reviews. It was just something I had written, and thought I could fit in here. And a huge thanks to** _ **and if I dream**_ **for their advice on my grammar - it's really helpful, and I hope that there is no more slip-ups, although I feel like I should mention that I do have ADHD, which means I don't really notice these things.**

 **P.P.S: This chapter is kind of, sort of, inspired by a scene that is a completely adorable exchange between Ezra and Aria, in Pretty Little Liars, and if you watch the show, you'll know exactly what I mean.**

Ivory letterings illuminated on a charcoal board that hung at the front of the classroom. Scribbled on the blackboard, was the saying _'We've all got both light and dark inside of us. What matters is the part we choose to act on. That's who we really are.'_

Fascinated by the words on the board, rows of enamored first years sat, with their mouths hung agape, and their little, bright eyes wide. Each and every one of the eleven year olds were clasping hold onto their professor's every word with adoring magnestism.

The professor in question was none other then Harry James Potter, the Boy Who Lived. With unruly, inky locks, and rounded glasses, he didn't look any different from when he was a teenager - if you didn't count the smart and pristine white shirt, and navy tie. In some ways he was a teenager, being a young man of eighteen. However, after everything that had ever happened to him, he had grown up fast. He'd had to. He felt older then he was. He'd seen more death then he'd have liked too.

He was also the youngest Hogwarts professor in history - Hermione was forever reminding him.

"So class, I want you each to answer the question; _are all werewolves bad?_ \- and I want five reasons for why you think so" Harry asked his students, getting up off of his desk, and stretching his arms out slightly, making his way to his chair behind his table.

As his class scrambled for their quills, excitedly mumbling to their partners about their indicidual answers, a redheaded figure slipped in through the door, attracting the attention of everybody in the room - especially a certain professor.

Instead of whispering about their work, the first years turned their conversations to the newer, and far more interesting topic - Ginny Weasley. Amongst the students at Hogwarts, she was quite a legend. Stories of what she did last year, with Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood, spread like wildfire throughout the houses and year groups. Tales of her beauty, and compassion, and laughter, and bravery inspired people, and rang as true as she was pretty.

Myths also circled the school about this redhead, and the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Well, they were myths to the first-years - everybody else knew that the two were head-over-heels in love with each other.

Just the mere prescence of Ginny was enough to send the pupils into an enthusiastic and frantic bunch. Many of them shared a seat with her at the Gryffindor table, in the Great Hall, and they all felt the need to share this information. For some, they'd only ever heard stories, and were excited to finally see her, just as they had been when Harry Potter walked into their classroom a few weeks ago, to announce he was their teacher.

Glancing at the board, Ginny flashed the first years a grin, and in a hushed voice, spoke to them.

"Careful how you answer that now, my brother's a werewolf - and trust me when I say, he's a huge softie."

Smiling, the students were quick to write their answers, some changing their opinions, to the dismay of their professor.

"Miss Weasley, could you . . . um . . . could you please refrain from swaying my . . . pupil's beliefs, please?" Nerves were evident in his voice, for what reason, they didn't know.

Bowing her head in mock compliance, Ginny apologised, somewhat sarcastically. Then, winking at the giggling first-years, she glided across the room, making a beeline for the professor.

In her hand, she clutched a black exercise book. Leaning over the desk, she handed him the book.

"It's that essay on chimaeras you wanted, _sir_ , sorry it's late" she told him, emphasis on the _sir_.

Looking behind her, she saw that every eye was on her. Holding up two fingers, which she pointed at her eyes, then at the pupils, they resumed their work, hastily. Chuckling slightly, she turned her attention back at Harry, who was skimming through her essay. He didn't look all that pleased with her effort.

"Ginny this is - "

Before he could say another word, Ginny slowly brought two hands to her cardigan, which she started to unbutton with a mischievious gleam in her eye. Gulping, he watched, with both anticipation, and anxiety. As her pepper-coloured cardigan came undone, Harry could see that she had fastened a note to her tie, with a paperclip. It read; _'Who do you have to screw to get an O around here?'_. Shuffling uncomfortably in his chair, he loosened his collar a little. He stifled a laugh, and smiled a little.

Picking up a quill, he moved his hand in one swift and fluid motion. Handing her the book back, she grinned, spotting a large O scrawled across the page.

"Well done Ginny, this is a very fine piece of work" he told her, trying to sound as geniune as he could, without smirking.

Winking, she swivelled round to face the class again, after doing up her cardigan, ensuring that the note was well and truly concealed.

Walking past a little blond boy, with striking green eyes, she glimpsed at his parchment, and smiled. Bending down, she kissed his forehead. "Good answer - I like you" she muttered to the beaming boy.

Then, she left the room, giving one last smile to the professor behind the desk.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Harry got up out of his chair, and made his way towards the first-year. Peeking at his answer, Harry chuckled, despite himself.

 _Werewolves can't all be bad because Ginny Weasley told me her brother is one, and she's very nice, and said that her brother is nice too, so I don't think that all werewolves are evil if Ginny has one for a brother and still likes him. Also, I saw a music video once where a werewolf that looked a lot like Michael Jackson started dancing. It was rather good._


	18. Our Loss

**A.N: So this chapter is quite contoversial, and could affect a lot of people, the topic it's about. My mum suffered through this, six times, and I know how heartbreaking it can be. I just hope I can write this with the compassion and delicacy it deserves. If I haven't, please tell me - all the advice I get is extremely helpful. This chapter is inspired by a story my mum told me, when she first experienced this. Except, in her case, it wasn't my dad who ran after her.**

For the first time in days, Ginny forgot.

Sparkling light shone through the window panes, and reflected off of a cerulean, glass dragonfly, swinging from the curtain pole, spilling dazzling blue light into the room. The room itself was cream, and full of homely trinkets, such as moving photographs of a beaming family of redheads, an array of sea shells lined along the window sill, a beautiful wooden, rocking chair in the corner, and a glorious, woven laundry basket at the foot of the bed.

Painted a remarkable beige colour, the guest bedroom at Shell Cottage was considerably beautiful, an epitome of serenity and peace.

Ginny bathed in the light, smiling, her eyes still closed. Running a hand along her stomach, the soft cotton smooth under her fingertips. Waiting, she anticipated movement of any kind. The kick of a tiny foot, a hiccup from a minisule mouth, the touch of a little hand.

Suddenly, a breath hitched in her throat. A tear rolled down her cheek, as her hand slipped off of her body. Once one tear slipped out, she found that she couldn't stop the rest.

Rolling over onto her side, she curled up into a ball, kicking the pristine sheets off of her. Her pyjamas consisted of a thin white tank top, and long, red checkered pyjama bottoms. Flaming auburn hair was sprawled out across the pillow.

Ginny stayed in this position for another hour, silently sobbing, alone. She only pulled herself together when the voices downstairs grew. Despite it being the beginning of August, and the scorching summer heat launching into it's prime, she shrugged on her dressing gown anyway, and took one hesitant step out of the door.

Slowly making her way down the slanting staircase, the volume of her family's voices increased. She could start to make out what they were saying.

" . . . and to think, she's going to be twenty-one in just under two weeks" sighed Hermione's voice, filled with pity and sympathy.

Drawing in a harsh breath, Ginny realised she had forgotten that her birthday was a mere nine days away, on the eleventh.

"Merlin's beard mum, stop knitting that! She could come downstairs at any moment!" That voice was distinctively Bill's.

"I can't help it Bill, once I start something, I have to finish it" her mother replied, in a shaky voice.

"Even it's for someone who's never going to get to wear it?" Ron spat, bitterly. Ginny heard a sharp _clap!_ and knew immediatley that her mum had slapped him.

"Now you listen here, Ronald! You're little sister is up there, grieving the loss of the child she is never going to meet. She is in goodness knows how much pain, and rather than - "

Molly never finished her sentance, as the arrival of her daughter through the doorway to the kitchen cut through all their thoughts.

Everyone was dressed, and Ginny spotted their breakfast things all washed up and placed on the drying rack. Glancing over at a large grandfather clock, she saw that the time was twelve thirty. This would usually have been counted as a lie-in, if Ginny had gotten much sleep that night. Or any night really, since she miscarried.

"Ginny, dear" her mum sighed, misty eyed as she went to hug her daughter. "Could I make you a cup of tea or anything?"

Shaking her head, Ginny pulled away from Molly, and crossed her arms. She could feel every eye on her, and it was unnerving.

Hermione crossed the room, and hugged her, tightly. Then she realised how tight she was holding onto Ginny, and pulled away, full of apologies.

"Don't worry about it, Hermione, you couldn't possibly kill her again" Ginny answered, with a weak smile.

Immediatley an ear-shattering clatter erupted from the corner of the room. Molly had dropped a china mug on the floor, spilling the contents all over the tiles.

"Mum, I told you I didn't want any - "

"Why would you say something like that?" Molly asked, shock evident on her aging face.

Before Ginny could reply, a sombre-looking figure entered the room. Behind his rounded glasses, the tears had gathered, peppering his eyelashes. The bags under his piercing green eyes were evidence that he hadn't had enough sleep. Clearly, something was troubling him too. Being the father of the unborn child, you would have thought so.

"What did you just say?" he asked, in a hoarse voice.

Feeling a lump rise in her throat, and tears prickle the back of her eyes, she couldn't look at her husband.

"Harry I - "

"No, don't dodge the question. What did you say?"

Desperate for an answer, he pressed on. Falling into her seat behind her, she closed her eyes, the tears slipping between her eyelids.

"Don't make me say it, Harry" she muttered.

Bounding forward, he knelt down, and clutched her hands in his, tentatively.

"Was it a girl? Was . . . she going to be a girl?" Harry asked, trying to sound as brave as he could, when really, it was taking his every ounce to keep it together.

Her hands trembling in Harry's, she nodded, sobbing. Harry allowed the tears to streak down his cheeks now, pressing his forehead against his wife's.

In the corner, Molly clasped her hand to her chest, and gasped. Besides Ginny, this baby would have been the first girl in a long line of Weasley's.

"Harry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" she murmered through whimpers. "I wasn't strong enough, it's my fault she - "

"Ginny, no" Harry told her, sternly. "This is not your fault, you hear me? This baby, our baby, wasn't strong enough. She wasn't strong enough. And that is not your fault."

Shaking her head, Ginny refused to listen. She was adamant she was the reason their daughter didn't survive.

Pulling away from Harry, she got up, and opened the front door, a warm summer breeze sweeping through. Her brothers, Bill and Ron, sped over and tried to get her to come and sit down. Ignoring them, she clutched hold of the door for support. Their voices were drowned out by the throbbing in her head. Fleur's and Hermione's too, when they attempted to get her to come inside and sit down.

The only thing she could think about was running. Running away from them all, from her husband, who she had failed. She couldn't bear standing in a room with them all, all their eyes watching her, waiting for her to break. Well this was it; this was her breaking.

Barefoot, she tore away from the house and ran towards the placid sea. Sand like velvet under her toes, she kept sprinting, her legs unwavering. The appeasing sound of waves rolling onto the shore, and the appeasing sound of seagulls in the distance, Ginny could have kept going. It was all so calming, so ataractic, that she didn't hear her husband come up behind her, nor did she realise she was standing in the ocean, knee high, and had in fact stopped running.

His gentle touch, however, was enough to snap her back to harsh reality, and to the pain that was consuming her.

She didn't turn to face Harry, but spoke anyway, calling to him above all the commotion.

"I failed you, didn't I."

"Of course you didn't."

"I did. I can't forgive myself, for what I've done to you."

"You haven't done anything to me, love."

"Me, I've always been surrounded by Weasley's, by my family. But you, you had no one for so long. You are the only Potter left, and I wanted this child so badly, not just for me, but so you wouldn't be alone. So you could have somebody else. But I couldn't give you that, and I hate myself for it."

His heart swelled with love, but broke at the same time, at her words. Never did he think he could be so in love, but so saddened simultaneously. Stepping foward, water spalshing around him, he stood in front of Ginny, and didn't take his eyes off of her.

"You, and your family, are the reason that I've not been alone since I was eleven. For the past ten years, I've had you to look out for me, to care for me, and I feel as though I can never repay you for the kindness and compassion you've shown me" he said, holding his wife's hands. "I'm not alone any more. I have you, Mrs Potter."

Smiling through her tears, Ginny kissed Harry, her fingertips grazing his cheeks as he held her waist. It was soft, and comforting.

As she pulled away, Harry found that Ginny was the most heavenly thing on earth, and he was enamored by her. The way her flaming red hair danced about her face in the wind, and how rosy her cheeks had become from running a great distance, were just examples of what beauty truly is.

"I love you Ginny Potter, so much so that at times it feels as though my heart has ceased beating, and only when I see you lying in the bed next to me does it start again. What has happened does not define us, it does not limit us. It is merely a bump in the road, something we can conquer, and come out better, and wiser. Our loss is heartbreaking, yes, but it does not mean failure, and it is not a means for an end. I love you, and you love me, and we will get through this together, hand-in-hand. I promise you, because I believe in miracles. I have done since the day our lips first touched, and I continue to believe in them, for here you stand, my wife, and that in itself is a phenomenon if ever there was one."

Reaching out a hand, Harry wiped away Ginny's tears. She nuzzled her cheek against his touch, closing her eyes.

Walking hand-in-hand, the pair made their way back up to Shell Cottage.

Three year later, Harry's promise rang true, as they welcomed into the world, James Sirius Potter.


End file.
